#Fernando alonso fanfic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pucksandpower · 4 months

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Lost in Translation

Lando Norris x Reader + Carlos Sainz x Reader + Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: in which Lando doesn’t speak a word of Spanish, Carlos turns out to be the world’s worst translator, and Fernando is an opportunist

Warnings: manipulation

The bass thumps through the walls as you make your way through the crowded club, dancing bodies packed together under pulsing lights. You’re exhausted after a long day of photoshoots, but your agent insisted you make an appearance at this exclusive afterparty following the Spanish Grand Prix. Being seen is part of the job when you’re an up and coming model.

You spot an open stool at the far end of the bar and gratefully sink onto it, kicking off your heels under the counter. The bartender appears through the chaos, shouting something in English you don’t understand over the music. You shake your head apologetically and order in Spanish.

“One glass of red wine, please.”

As you wait, you glance around the club. Famous faces from the world of Formula 1 mix with socialites and celebrities. You recognize a few drivers and team bosses, fresh from the race.

Your gaze lands on a young man seated a few stools down, wearing a McLaren team jacket. His curly brown hair falls softly over his forehead as he leans against the bar, engrossed in his phone. Something about him looks familiar.

“Here you go.” The bartender sets your drink down. You smile your thanks and take a long sip, letting the bright aged flavors wash over your tongue. The alcohol warms your limbs, relaxing away the strains of the day.

You’re debating whether to stay for another drink or head back to your hotel when you feel the stool next to you shift. The young man in the McLaren jacket takes a seat, flashing you a charming grin.

“Hi there,” he says, his English words foreign to your ears. Up close he’s even more handsome, with lively color changing eyes and a smattering of freckles across his cheeks. You don’t understand what he’s saying, but his body language is obvious.

You give him a coy smile in return. “Hello.”

He seems unfazed by the language barrier, launching into a lively stream of English as he signals the bartender for two drinks. You watch his lips form around the exotic words, catching a name here and there.

Lando. McLaren. Spain.

Each syllable musical and indecipherable.

When the fresh drinks arrive, you clink glasses together. The liquor slides down easily, warming your cheeks. You can’t understand Lando, but the spark in his eyes needs no translation. He’s flirting. And you’re enjoying the attention after a long day on your feet.

As the night wears on, you drift closer together, thighs brushing on the stools, hands slyly grazing. The pulsing music and alcohol blur the edges of your thoughts into a pleasant haze. All that matters are Lando’s eyes locked on yours, and the building tension that thrums under his touch.

Eventually he stands, holding out a hand with that charming grin. You don’t hesitate, letting him lead you through the sea of bodies toward the exit, the noise fading behind you.

The cool night air hits your skin as you step outside. Lando hails a cab, and you slide across the backseat, thighs pressed together. His hand comes to rest on your knee and you lace your fingers through his, exchanging coy glances in the darkness.

When the cab stops at your hotel, Lando insists on walking you to your room. As you step into the lobby, the bright lights feel harsh after the dimness of the club. Lando’s hand rests lightly on your lower back, guiding you towards the elevators.

In the mirrored walls of the elevator, you catch sight of your smudged makeup and tousled hair. Lando stands close behind you, eyes trailing over your figure in the reflection. You feel a flush rising on your cheeks that has nothing to do with the wine.

The walk down the plush hotel hallway feels endless, heightened by anticipation. Your hands brush and you exchange coy glances, the flirtatious tension building. At last you stop outside your door. Hands fumbling, you slide the key card into the lock while Lando waits eagerly beside you.

As soon as the door clicks open, his mouth is on yours. You melt into the kiss, the taste of liquor sweet on his lips. Stumbling backwards, you lead him into the room, fingers tangled in his soft curls.

You come up for air long enough to kick off your heels. Lando’s eyes blaze with desire as he shrugs off his jacket and reaches for you again. You meet him halfway, lips fused together, hands roaming. The backs of your legs hit the bed and you tumble backwards, pulling him down on top of you.

You lose yourself in the feeling of his body against yours, hard muscle under smooth skin. Gasps and moans fill the air as clothes are discarded piece by piece onto the plush carpet. The rest of the world fades away until all that’s left is skin on skin, racing heartbeats, the slide of sweat-slick limbs.

After, you lie tangled together as your breathing slows, floating back down to earth. Lando traces lazy patterns on your arm as you drift towards sleep, spent and sated.

The morning sun streaming through the curtains wakes you. For a moment you’re disoriented, then the memories of last night come flooding back. You stretch and roll over, expecting to find Lando, but the other side of the bed is empty.

You sit up, holding the sheet around you, and spot him standing by the window on his phone. He glances over at you with a sheepish smile. “Good morning,” he says.

You return the greeting in Spanish, then pause, realization dawning. Now, in the harsh light of day without the haze of alcohol, the language barrier stretches wide between you.

Lando seems to have come to the same conclusion. He looks at you helplessly and says something in English you don’t understand. You shake your head and respond in rapid Spanish, trying to explain that you don’t speak his language. But your words have no more meaning to him than his do to you.

You both stare at each other in bewilderment. Last night things had seemed so simple, but now you have no way to communicate. Lando runs a hand through his hair in frustration. You wish you could bridge the gap between you, but Spanish and English remain foreign tongues.

After a few more failed attempts at conversation, Lando pulls out his phone. He scrolls through his contacts, then seems to find what he’s looking for. Putting the phone to his ear, he says clearly, “Carlos, mate, I need your help.”

***

Lando lowers the phone from his ear just as a knock sounds at the door.

“That was fast,” he says with a relieved grin, crossing the room to open it.

You quickly pull on a hotel robe and smooth your tangled hair as much as possible. From the bed, you watch as Lando ushers another man into the room. He’s tall and handsome, with warm brown eyes and an easy smile. Something about him seems instantly familiar and trustworthy.

“Carlos, this is ...” Lando pauses and glances back at you with an apologetic look, realizing he doesn’t know your name.

“My name is Y/N,” you offer, giving the newcomer a small wave.

His face lights up in recognition. “Y/N Y/L/N! The Spanish model!”

You flush, surprised and flattered that he knows who you are. Before you can respond, Carlos turns to Lando and launches into rapid English. Though you don’t understand the words, his tone sounds polite yet teasing, making Lando blush faintly.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Lando mutters, running a hand through his curls. “Just tell her I’m happy to meet her and I had a great time last night.”

Carlos nods and looks at you with a hint of mischief in his warm brown eyes. “He says you are very boring and he regrets last night, but wants to let you down gently.”

You frown in confusion. That didn’t sound like a compliment at all. Lando is watching you expectantly, oblivious.

“Tell him I don’t understand why,” you say carefully.

Carlos turns back to Lando. “She says you’re an arrogant prick and she wants you to leave.”

“What?” Lando looks taken aback. “Where did that come from? Tell her I’d love to get to know her better over breakfast or something.”

“He says it was nice of you to help scratch his itch last night but he has better options,” Carlos tells you bluntly.

You fold your arms across your chest, irritation flaring. The flirtatious spark between you and Lando last night seems to have vanished in the light of day, replaced by this stilted miscommunication.

Lando’s brows knit together as he tries again. “Look, I’m sorry if I offended her in some way. Let her know I’d like the chance to make it up to her before I go.”

Carlos’ expression softens as he turns to you. “He says you aren’t bad to look at and you not being able to speak English is a bonus because that means he doesn’t have to listen to you talk.”

You nod slowly as anger takes over. “Tell him I want him gone now.”

“She says you’re the stupid one for thinking she wanted anything from you other than your money,” Carlos tells Lando.

Lando shoves his hands in his pockets, looking disappointed. “I-I thought we had a good connection.”

A hint of steel enters Carlos’ eyes. “He says that if he wanted a gold-digger, he would at least choose someone who looks good on his arm.”

Your mouth drops open in shock. Why would he say such a terrible thing? Anger replaces any lingering attraction you felt for Lando. You turn away, fists clenched, humiliation burning in your cheeks.

Lando looks utterly confused. “What … I don’t … Carlos, what is going on?” He stammers helplessly.

But Carlos is already at your side, murmuring comfortingly in Spanish as he guides you toward the door. “Don’t pay attention to him, he’s not worth it. Come with me.”

You let Carlos wrap a supportive arm around your shoulders, tears of frustration pricking your eyes. With one last glare at a dumbfounded Lando, you sweep out of the hotel room.

As Carlos leads you down the hall, you lean into his side, reassured by his solid presence. “Thank you,” you tell him sincerely. “I just don’t know why he was so mean ...”

“I’ll take care of it,” he says with a wink. Whatever just happened between you and Lando, you’re grateful to have found a quick friend in Carlos.

And judging by the sparks you felt when he first said your name, perhaps he could be something more. For now, you push that thought aside, the day has already had enough drama.

***

The weeks following the awkward encounter with Lando fly by in a whirlwind of model castings, photoshoots, and fashion shows. But you find your thoughts continually drifting back to Carlos and his warm brown eyes.

When he calls you up and invites you to the upcoming Austrian Grand Prix as his guest, you happily accept. The chance to get to know him better away from the drama with Lando is too tempting to pass up.

The paddock thrums with excitement on race day. You smooth down the skirt of your flowy sundress and take Carlos’ arm as he guides you through the bustling team garages toward the pit lane. Your heels click sharply on the pavement, echoing the anticipation building in your chest.

Mechanics and engineers pause in their work to glance your way appreciatively. You flush under their gazes but keep your chin high. On Carlos’ arm, you feel like you belong.

As you near the bright papaya of the McLaren garage, Carlos casually steers you down a side path to avoid walking right by. You feel a twinge of relief not to chance running into Lando. That awkward morning is firmly in the past.

But as you round a corner, you find yourselves face to face with him. Lando stops short, eyes widening. For a moment, the three of you stand frozen. Then Lando breaks into a tentative smile.

“Y/N! I didn’t realize you’d be here. You look lovely.” His English words sound friendly enough, but you cling tighter to Carlos’ arm, waiting for the translation.

Carlos’ expression remains neutral. “He says your dress is too tight and it’s not a flattering look.”

You gasp, stung by the insult. All your insecurities about your body that you constantly fight to overcome as a model come flooding back at his cruel words.

Lando’s brows furrow in confusion, clearly sensing Carlos’ interpretation was off. “No, I just said she looks nice ...” He turns his attention to you, eyes pleading. “Y/N, I’m so sorry about what happened last time. I’d love the chance to take you out properly while we’re both here this weekend.”

Suppressing a smug smile, Carlos translates for you. “He says that while you’re not his first choice, you are easy in bed and he would like for you to come to his suite this evening.”

Tears of humiliation spring to your eyes. You stare at Lando in shock, feeling betrayed. Attraction turns to disgust in a heartbeat. How could you have ever felt a connection with someone who views you as nothing but an object for pleasure?

Lando is shaking his head frantically, obviously bewildered by your reaction. “I don’t know what you’re telling her, but this is not what I said!” He reaches out imploringly but you recoil from his touch.

He steps towards you but is cut off as your stiletto slams down hard onto his foot. He yelps in pain, hopping back. The slap of your palm across his cheek echoes through the empty side path.

“You are a disgusting pig!” You spit at him in your native Spanish. With a dramatic flip of your hair, you spin on your heel and storm away, fuming. Behind you, Carlos scrambles to catch up.

“Y/N! Wait!” Hearing his familiar voice, your rage melts. You pause, sniffling, and let Carlos pull you into a comforting hug.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs, gently stroking your hair. “Lando is an idiot.”

You nod against his shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut to hold back tears. Carlos’ steady presence soothes you. As your breathing finally calms, a voice speaks up from behind.

“Such dramatics!”

You turn to see Fernando Alonso striding towards you, an amused smile on his handsome face. He nods at your foot.

“That was quite the stomp you gave Lando back there,” he remarks with a chuckle. “Remind me not to get on your bad side, hermosa.”

You can’t help but smile back shyly. Of all the people to witness your outburst, it had to be your longtime idol in Formula 1.

“I’m sorry, I thought he said something rude about me,” you explain with an embarrassed wince.

Fernando waves his hand dismissively. “No need to apologize. I could tell something was getting lost in translation between the three of you.”

He shoots Carlos a pointed look. Carlos shrinks back and avoids Fernando’s gaze, shuffling his feet.

“Those younger drivers are still boys when it comes to women,” Fernando continues, turning his attention back to you. “You deserve better than to be caught in the middle of their silly games.”

His worldly confidence and flattering words make you flush. Glancing between Fernando and Carlos, you start to question the latter’s intentions. Did he mistranslate on purpose back in Spain to drive a wedge between you and Lando?

Fernando seems to read your uncertainty. He extends a hand to help you to your feet.

“Why don’t you walk with me instead of these children? I can show you what a real man looks like.” The challenge in his daring smile quickens your pulse.

You let him pull you up, feeling your anger over Lando’s remarks transforming into starstruck awe.

As he starts to lead you off, Carlos finds his voice again. “Wait, Y/N, please ...” he calls after you, distraught. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I care about you!”

But Fernando silences him with a scornful glare. “Don’t waste your breath. You had your chance.” With that, he guides you away, leaving a crestfallen Carlos behind.

Adrenaline courses through you at the unexpected turn of events. The paddock seems to part around you as Fernando walks with you, head held high. His hand on your back feels possessive in a thrilling way.

When curious eyes drift your way, Fernando pulls you tighter to his side in a clear message — she’s with me. Your heart pounds at the public claim over you.

As you walk, Fernando points out details of the garage and pit activities, answering your stream of awed questions. His deep knowledge amazes you as he describes complex race strategy like reading a storybook.

The command he wields here is clear. And by sticking close, some of that power transfers to you. Other women eye you enviously as you pass. For the first time, instead of feeling exposed in their judging looks, you feel empowered.

With Fernando, you have nothing to prove. He sees you, not as a dumb model or conquest, but an equal worthy of respect. When you hesitantly voice that thought, he smiles.

“Too few of the idiots here appreciate women for their minds,” he agrees. “But I enjoy a sharp intellect as much as beauty.”

You practically glow at the validation. Any lingering hurt or anger melts away, replaced with lightness.

Maybe things will work out just as they should after all.

***

The rest of the season and off-season flies by in a whirlwind of excitement and new experiences with Fernando. When he asks you to accompany him to the 2025 season opener in Australia, you eagerly accept.

In the months since that dramatic Austrian weekend, your bond has only grown stronger. Fernando makes you feel treasured and respected. Under his wing, you’ve blossomed in confidence.

And that extends to English. Fernando gently encouraged you to start lessons so you could navigate the international world of Formula 1. You dove in headfirst, determined to prove yourself.

Now, as you and Fernando arrive at the bustling Melbourne paddock hand in hand, you can’t wait to show off your progress. Fernando smiles proudly at your enthusiasm.

“Ready to give your English a try, hermosa?” He asks, giving your hand an encouraging squeeze.

You take a deep breath and nod. The words still feel clumsy on your tongue, but Fernando’s steadying presence emboldens you.

As you approach the row of motorhomes, your strides slow. The last time you saw Carlos and Lando still stings. But with Fernando beside you, you have nothing to fear.

Right on cue, the two young drivers come around the corner. They stop short at the sight of you, eyes widening. An awkward beat passes before Lando breaks the tension.

“Y/N … you look well,” he says carefully. Carlos shifts on his feet but stays silent.

Fernando gives them a curt nod. “Lando. Carlos.” His voice carries a note of warning — don’t try anything.

You lift your chin. Time to take control of this narrative. “Hello Lando. Carlos,” you respond in slow, deliberate English. “I am good. And you?”

They gape at you in surprise. “You’re speaking English now?” Carlos asks. “That’s great!”

You resist the urge to fall back on your native Spanish. Fernando believes in you.

“Yes, I learn,” you tell Carlos. “Fernando helps me … how you say … empower?” You glance at Fernando to confirm you have the right word. His approving smile emboldens you.

Lando looks bemused. “Er, that’s great. Your English is really coming along.”

You frown. The subtle condescension in his tone irks you. Your skills may be basic still, but you deserve respect.

“Do not patronize me,” you say sharply, the unfamiliar words feeling powerful on your tongue. “I am try my best. You just … how you say … celoso?” Again you double check with Fernando.

“Jealous is the word, I believe,” he confirms with a wink.

You grin. “Yes, jealous! You are just jealous of me and Fernando.”

Lando holds up his hands in protest. “No, that’s not it at all, I’m happy for you ...”

But you barrel on, relishing this opportunity to at last be understood. “You think I am just a model, not smart. But Fernando show me I can be smart AND beautiful.”

You take a deep breath before delivering the final blow. “He says I have … potencial. He believes in me. Not like you two boys.”

Crossing your arms, you stare them down defiantly. The speech leaves you feeling bold and powerful, despite the clumsy delivery. Fernando squeezes your shoulder proudly.

“I think that sums it up nicely, querida,” he praises. “Shall we?”

You nod and let him guide you away, confidently walking past a stunned Lando and Carlos. Their widened eyes follow you, seeing you clearly for the first time.

Once out of earshot, Fernando pulls you into a passionate kiss. “I am so proud of you,” he murmurs. “You found your voice today.”

You cling to him, heart soaring. With Fernando, you have grown more in these few months than in years past. He never doubted you could reach higher and fulfill your potential.

Your moment is interrupted by enthusiastic shouts in Spanish. You turn to see your family rushing over, eager for their long awaited reunion.

Laughing, you break from Fernando’s embrace to greet them. As you chat animatedly in your native tongue, you feel Fernando’s admiring gaze on you.

Later, in a quiet moment together, he brushes a strand of hair from your face tenderly. “You contain multitudes, Y/N,” he remarks. “Never let anyone put limits on you.”

You snuggle closer, overflowing with love and gratitude. With Fernando, the possibilities seem endless. He believes in the woman you have always been and the woman you are becoming, and gives you strength.

Whatever the future brings, you know you will soar.

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cheriladycl01 · 4 months

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Could you do fic for Fernando Alonso with wife reader?(no age gap). He saw that someone was flirting with her and she was oblivious to it. Then, he swoops in to ‘save’ her from a bad flirt when in reality they were just jealous. He also feels insecure about his age and to make him feel better, she reveals that she had a surprise for him. You decide what it was. Just something fluff and romantic. Tag me later!! Thanks :)))

You make me feel so …. I don’t know the word in English! -McLaren Fernando Alonso x ObliviousWife! Reader

Plot: Marrying Fernando Alonso was the best decision you ever made, you loved how manly and protective he was with you. However, recently he’s been getting jealous of the other men of the grid and how they treat you.

Fernando Alonso had been your husband for many years. You were sort of childhood sweethearts who married young on a whim and stuck together through it all.

You were able to travel the world with the person, later to be people you loved most. However recently you had a glow about it, maybe it was the fact that you were 1 month pregnant not to the knowledge of Fernando and not yet showing but just had that dewy, glowing skin that made you look radiant.

Everyone in the paddock took notice of this change, not that they couldn’t appreciate your attractiveness before, but now it just made them swoon anytime you breezed into the garage in one of your pretty sun dresses.

Today was no different, it was a beautiful sunny day in Mexico, and you were handing out water and fruit for the mechanics and engineers hard at work on your husbands car. You knew them all by name, you made sure you did, so greeting them was never an issue.

However, nobody told you of the rookie employee that had joined them for Mexico in McLaren garage. You immediately started to introduce yourself to the man, talking to him about what he was doing to the car and asking when he had joined them.

Unknown to you, the mechanic was smitten with you and everything you were telling him about your life. He was listening to every word you were telling him, and that was the effect you had on a lot of people.

“So are you, I dunno coming to the team dinner tonight?” He asks scratching the back of his neck and your about to answer with an animated yes until you feel a hand snake round your waist and pull you closer to them.

You look up and see your husband making you smile and pull him into a gentle kiss.

“Mmm my wife will be attending the dinner” Fernando says, you can’t tell but it’s said with a grit in his teeth and a sharp foxy look in his eyes that tells him to back off.

Fernando was used to you getting male attention, but lately it was constant and you didn’t even know it was happening, you were just so oblivious and he hated that you didn’t realise all these people were flirting with you.

And that mechanic wasn’t even the last of it.

Maybe it was something in the Mexican air, but even Fernando couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you over the weekend, especially after your run in with Lewis, and your old friend Jenson.

When Lewis come up to you, you had a big grin on your face.

“Hey darling. How are you?” He asked kissing either side of your cheeks looking over you with those eyes that would draw any woman in, but you. You had no idea those flirty eyes were intended that way. You just saw the kind chocolate brown and assumed the sparkle and glint in there was happiness to see you.

“I’m really good Lew! Just getting to that point of the day where I’m so exhausted, not all of us are young athletes that look 10 year more youthful than they are” you joked to him making him laugh.

“Mmm you definitely don’t struggle in that department” he says looking over you and you beam at him.

“It’s just so warm, do you recon you can help me take my jacket off? I’m not sure where Fernando is, and the buttons always get caught in my hair” you ask, looking round quickly to see if you can in fact bother your husband with the minor inconvenience at hand.

“Of course, turn around for me” he instructs before pulling your hair back and carefully peeling the tight jacket from your body, now showing off the full look of the sundress you were wearing and how it clung to your most valuable assets in the best ways.

“New dress” Lewis asks observing it making you nod.

“Mmmm, I love getting to wear these kinds of dresses in this heat, they make me feel very pretty” you smile as you shove your hands into the pockets of your dress that when you first got it you couldn’t stop telling Fernando about them, before doing a little spin for Lewis, showing of the small slit in the dress.

Fernando came over the minute he saw the look on Lewis face, who was holding your jacket as he spoke to you.

“Lewis” Fernando faked a smile at the fellow driver, once again wrapping his arms around you so you were in front of him with a tight grip and nowhere to go.

“Hello Fernando” Lewis smiles coyly with a slight smirk. The two make idle conversation before Fernandos dragging you away trying to lightly ask you to stay out in the garage and don’t stray away.

But once he was in the car, you found yourself needing the toilet (Curse the start of your baby sitting on your bladder) and another drink due to the high temperatures Mexico was experiencing that day.

There you found Jenson who was just finishing up with an interview before his eyes landed on you.

“Well if it isn’t Y/N Alonso, looking as beautiful as ever” he grins and you pull him into a hug.

You’d known Jenson for pretty much your whole life being childhood friends from Primary school in the UK. You met Fernando when you went to university in Spain, you always joked that you would have still met someone even if it was later in life because Jenson would have likely introduced you.

So when Fernando saw you and him jokingly messing around with one another his face was like thunder.

Jenson could immediately tell and said a quick goodbye to you not wanting to be at the brunt of the Spaniards anger.

“Fernando baby, what’s the matter?” You ask, coming close to him and trying to thread your fingers through his but he shoves your hand away lightly.

“When will you see it?” He demands and you cock your head to the side, not understanding what he meant, making him groan at how cute you looked.

“See what mi amor?” You ask, using Spanish to see if he’d be calmer.

“You don’t see all these BOYS flirting with you and trying to win you over and you don’t see how it affects me and upsets me! And you make me so mad when you entertain it’s and and I don’t know the world in English because I don’t even think there is a word to describe it!” He exclaims all at once making you step back.

He was really really hurt by all this… and you hadn’t been able to see it.

“Have you ever thought that I don’t notice it because I only have eyes for you?” You ask softly, taking his hand happy and satisfied he lets you this time.

“I know I know, I just think… all of these men coming up to you … they are younger than us and it just makes me think they could give you more than I can” he sighs and looks at you with those little puppy dog eyes.

“Don’t you dare say that!” You exclaim almost offended. He had in fact brought your age into it aswell!

“How dare you say that they could give me more than you can, when you damn well know you’ve given me everything!” You say raising your voice.

“Fernando, I love you, and only you! How can you not see that!” You ask.

“I do see it, I just someone feel insecure and I worry that we are too late to experience certain things and its all my fault coz I put it off because of my career!” He explains and your head cocks to the side once again, wondering what he feels like he’s too late to experience.

“What, what do you think we’ve left too late?” You question.

“Kids, travelling the world without my career being there … I dunno I just had a different timeline for us when we first met” he sighs rubbing his temple before pulling you closer to him and resting his head in the crook of you neck as he takes in your sent.

“Baby, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. I was going to wait for after the race so we could tell your parents too but I think this will cheer you up a little … and stop you from worrying about me running over with your colleagues” you joke and he sighs with a light smile pulling back to look over you.

“What is it mi amor?” He asks looking over you. You take his hand and place it on your still pretty flat stomach.

“You can cross a kid of your timeline” you say nervously with a small gulp worried for his reaction.

“Are you being serious?” He asks with a huge grin and he feels around you more to see if there is a more obvious sign.

“Yeah, i only found out before the flight out here” you nod smiling at him and he lifts you up, being as careful as possible with you as he pulls you into a hug.

“I love you so so much! I’m sorry I get so jealous of you, but you can’t blame me when I’m married to such a beautiful woman. Thank you for everything” he smiles pulling you into a light kiss.

Fernando couldn’t be more content with his life right now.

Taglist:

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bunnys-kisses · 2 months

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may I perchance have some blueberry muffins w a side of mocha coffee? maybe with fernando or oscar 😋😋

bakery menu

if you want to order a dessert for yourself, follow the link to the original post! as for this lovely anon, thank you for the request, i chose fernando because i've gotten quite a few for oscar already and wanted to shake things up! but i promise he's a lovely server too!

blueberry muffin ("i don't think it'll fit.") + mocha coffee (breeding kink) served by fernando alonso (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, breeding kink, size kink, girlfriend!reader, pregnancy, semi-public sex

fernando was a good lover. a good boyfriend, he loved the sight of you. you were just so perfect for him. and yet, you still surprised him at every turn.

“i want a baby.” you said over morning coffee. fernando almost choked on his breakfast at the statement. a baby? like a mini alonso running around? the thought made him give you a look and you responded, “fernando, you and i aren't getting any younger. you keep talking about wanting to retire eventually, so why not grow our little family.” you gave him a sweet smile.

he was a sucker for your smile, it was like witnessing a sunrise when you beamed at him. like being greeted with warmth. he could never deny his beautiful girlfriend anything. you did however have a point, you two weren't getting any younger. and while you were younger than him, his was in his forties. and at a certain point a father can't really be a father if he's too old.

the idea of you pregnant however, softened the blow of the request. his precious girlfriend coming to the paddock with her lovely swollen middle on display for the rest of them to see. you already were quite the looker with a friendly personality to match!

he couldn't say no, that was why he said to you, your hand in his, “yes, of course.”

you were nothing if not determined. when you got your mind put to something, you see it till the end. and that meant trying every attempt you could to get yourself pregnant. now fernando wondered in his youth what it would be like to have a beautiful woman constantly want to have sex with him, it felt like a dream. but maybe it was age or the wear and tear from years of driving, but to have a beautiful younger woman constantly touching him left him with a sore back and aching balls.

don't get him wrong, he'd happily make love to you every time you asked. but, when you were happily riding him in his driver's room right before a race. he thought his head was going to explode.

it was dutch grand prix and fernando was getting himself organized in his driver's room when he heard a knock on the door. he called for the person to come in and was greeted by the sweet sound of your voice.

“you know, you always looked good in your driver's suit.”

he smiled at you, “and how are you, mi amor?” he came over to you and wrapped his arms around you. he leaned in to kiss you on the lips, “wishing me good luck?”

you played with the zipper of his suit and replied, “well, i always love seeing the love of my life right before a race. you also looked so handsome even with the helmet off.” you laughed a little before you kissed him once more, “plus.” you leaned in a little bit and whispered in his ear, “i think we have some time before you have to go win the grand prix for me.”

“time?” he asked.

you giggled, “yeah.” you raised your skirt a little bit to show off your sweet cunt to your boyfriend, “i told you, i was taking this seriously.”

fernando relaxed a little on the couch and raised his eyebrows at you, “oh really? right before a race, mi amor?”

you nodded and watched your boyfriend sit down on the couch and get his cock out of his pants. he stroked it as he looked at you. he watched you get out of your skirt and underwear. just to make it a lot easier because that skirt was quite long. seeing you bottom half nude made his mouth dry for a moment.

he relaxed a little bit and took you by the hips. you covered your mouth with your hand and slowly sank down on his cock. your heart raced at the feeling of his length buried inside of you. your heart fluttered as you felt his cock nudged against your pussy. you clenched your jaw as you finally started to fully sink down on his cock. but you had to go slow, for the stretch was a lot.

“pretty girl.” he purred, “you're so determined to get your lover to get you pregnant.” his cock throbbed a little bit, “you want an alonso running around the place? getting into all kinds of trouble? you want to be a mother to all my children?”

you nodded and pulled your hand away to hold onto his shoulders, “i don't think it'll fit.” you said.

"well, if it can't fit then you can't get pregnant." he said. he knew it could fit, but it took a lot to get you fully seated on him. he massaged your hips to help you relax before he fully got you seated on his cock. he peppered your face with kisses, "see. it fit."

you whined a little at the fullest in your pussy. you tried so hard to keep yourself composed as to not cause a scene. but your boyfriend's voice was in your ear.

"that's a good girl. you want to be mrs. alonso, the happy mother of my children. you've been trying so hard, mi amor." he laughed as he groped at your breasts, playing with your nipples between his fingers, "such a pretty girl."

you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as you rocked your hips. your body was starting to crave his cum, the feeling of his cock into of your sweet pussy. you yearned for it ALL.

fernando was an amazing lover, he always knew what you needed. even if he knew there would be a little pain on him when he had to race. watching you on top of him, rubbing your clit against his pubic bone as you have his entire cock in you.

he held you face and kissed you softly, "i'm surprised you didn't ask sooner. your sweet pussy wants me so badly. i bet while i was away you were constantly thinking about me. having me get you nice and full with my children."

your cunt clenched around his hard cock as you started to move faster. the pleasure coursed through your body as you moved. your pretty tits bounced so nicely for him. his eyes lingered on them for a moment, wishing that he could've taken your shirt off too.

but now wasn't the time, it was going to have to wait until you got back to the hotel room.

"i know you'll make a great mama for my babies.' he chuckled, "keep you nice and busy making sure they're all taken care of. give those future drivers a run for their money." he beamed at you.

you kissed him once more and really worked your hips against his cock. you panted and moaned softly against his lips and felt the heat wash over you. you needed him so badly.

and he needed you more than anything. you were so perfect for him. he could feel the heat course through his body, only made worse by the amount of layers he was wearing.

"please." you said, "cum in me."

"always, mi amor." he said as he stationed both hands on your hips to really get deep in you. his cock really hit against every of your softest parts. you felt like you were on cloud nine, but you couldn't drift off. you had a job to finish.

the pace was erratic, but you were both clawing at the chance to finish.

"i'm going to be such a good man for you. you're going to be doing all this hard work to raise my children. i might as well make sure that i am taking care of you return. my precious girl." he groaned as he shoved you down on his cock a few times and finished inside of you.

you clasped your hands over your mouth once more to keep yourself from being far too loud. this wasn't your private home. this was in fact almost a public space and now it reeked of your rabbit-like fucking.

you both came at the same time and you slowed your pace down to a soft stop. then you just laid your head on your boyfriend's shoulder for a moment to compose yourself. your hands knotted in the fabric of his driver's suit.

he held you by the back of your head and showered your face in kissed. "that was good." he panted, the heat was heavy in his body. he'd need some water to cool off soon.

you nodded, "yes, perfect." you got off his cock with a wet noise and made a soft moaning noise. it was almost cute.

he didn't want to think about the possibility of your wetness or his cum staining the fabric of his driver's suit. he wiped the sweat off his forehead and relaxed onto the couch. he felt you rub your pussy up against his softening cock. he loved his girlfriend and even though he got into the car with a bit of back pain, his heart was yours.

“mrs. alonso! mrs. alonso!” one of the pa's for the team your husband drove for was following behind you, “oh my god, how can a six month pregnant woman walk this fast.”

the poor pa was in charge of making sure that the very pregnant wife of fernando alonso was safe and not getting herself into trouble (something you'd deny you ever did!)

fernando was standing with lance when he caught the sight of you approaching. he chuckled and waved to the pa before he went to grab you in his arms. he wrapped them around your shoulders and pressed a kiss on your temple. “what are you doing?”

“i wanted to see you before the race, you were taking too long.” you joked as you leaned in to kiss him on the lips. he chuckled against your touch before you pulled away, “i wanted to wish you good luck.”

fernando placed a hand on your middle and gave it a good rub. he said, “i'm sorry, mi amor.” he kissed your forehead once more, “now why don't you get comfortable before the race happens. no need to worry about me.” he kissed you again.

you replied, “fine, but you better do well, mister alonso.”

he smiled back his (newly wed) and said, “of course, for you and for our son.” it was a bit of a shock that fernando seemed to be doing better in his final season before retirement!

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gguk-n · 1 month

Text

Fernando's Protege (Fernando Alonso x Single mom!Reader)

Summary- Alejandro was the next big thing in Karting and he was only 8 years old. He also looked up to Fernando Alonso. Getting to meet Alonso changed not just his life but also his mom's.

Watching Alejandro zip past the strait on the track, Y/N felt a sense of pride. He was only 8 and was a force to be reckoned with. He was fast, agile and most of all humble; which was the reason why he was doing so well. Y/N always taught her son to be thankful and grateful for the opportunities and the success.

Alejandro was a tiny version of her, the biggest similarity being their love for cars. She had passed down her love for racing to her son. When he was born 8 years ago, she did not imagine she would be standing at the track in Madrid watching her son winning his first karting championship. There was a buzz as Alito crossed the finish line. His mom already by his side as he took his helmet off, a big toothy grin plastered on his face. "Momma, did you see? I was so fast" he spoke animatedly while trying to catch his breath. She smiled at him, "Yes, you were carino." while hugging him. "Let's go, you need to rehydrate and then we'll check the kart before we have to go for the debrief." she continued. Her son smiled at her, now sipping from his 'Cars' bottle.

This shared interest of theirs had Y/N working 2 jobs and a freelance gig so that she could make it to his races. But watching Alito smile was more than all she could ask for. As the debrief started, she heard a lot of whispers and murmurs until one of the interviewers compared her son to Fernando Alonso, his idol. That boy really looked up to Alonso; even though he was just a kid he knew how hard his mom worked to make his dreams a reality. He knew Alonso had to work really hard to get where he is, and Alito knew he wanted to be just like Alonso and race on the same track with him. "So, Alejandro, how does it feel to win your first Spanish karting championship?" the interviewers asked. "It's the best. I'm gonna have pizza after this." he cheered. A small smile evident on his mother's lips as she watched him interact. "You've been a force to be reckoned with. People say you remind them of Fernando Alonso." the interviewer spoke. "What does that word mean?" Alejandro asked. "Reckoned means people think you are or might be as good as Alonso in his karting days" the interviewer elaborated. The little boy jumped up and down bouncing on his feet as he answered the question, "He is my idol after my momma obviously" he said while looking at his mom, "I love him and I wanna be like him and race with him one day" he spoke with his voice slightly higher. "I hope you get to do that some day, I think it might happen soon" the interviewer said. They continued with question on race strategies and then Alejandro walked away to receive his trophy.

The interview of Alejandro after the race had started making it's rounds on the internet when people found out how much he loved Alonso and how both of them came from humble backgrounds. It had reached Fernando's PR team who showed it to him. Fernando ended up watching his races and he was happy to have such a talented boy look up to him. As he dug deeper into his story, he found out Alejandro's mom was his team, she was doing all of this alone. He knew how difficult it was; Alonso saw the potential and he wanted to help the family. His PR team ended up contacting Alejandro and his mom through social media and got them tickets to his race in Spain. When Y/N got the dm and the invite, she was over the moon. Both of them were huge fans and this was a once in a life time thing.

On the day of the race, Alejandro was decked out in green repping Fernando and Aston Martin. He was literally bouncing off the walls with the excitement. Y/N packed a small bag with some food and an extra change of clothes for Alito. There was a buzz in the air as she drove them to the venue. Alito couldn't stop talking about everything he would tell Alonso and all the pictures he would take. She parked the car and got Alejandro and some of their essentials out and was greeted by the Aston Martin team at the entrance. They handed them their paddock passes which Alejandro insisted on wearing on his own and asked to take pictures with. They walked towards the Aston Martin hospitality while Y/N tried to keep a tight grasp on the little boy's hand. He waved at anyone and everyone he made eye contact with. She almost lost him when he saw Carlos and sprinted towards him, with Y/N just behind.

"Hola Carlos, I'm a big fan" he chirped. Carlos smiled and replied, "But it looks like you love Alonso more" The little boy looked down before saying, "He's my idol, I wanna race with him one day" Carlos ruffled his head, "Sure you will" he said. I greeted Carlos, apologised for the inconvenience. He brushed it off and even took a picture with Alejandro on his request. She scolded him on the way back about running away from her. Alito apologised and even kissed his mom's hand. They reached Aston Martin without anymore hiccups.

Fernando was waiting to greet them, "Hola, Alejandro" with his hand out for him. "Hola Fernando" he said while shaking his hand. "Congratulations on your win" Fernando said. "Muchas gracias, I wanna be like you when I grow up" Alejandro blurted while hugging Fernando's legs. "I think you'll be better than me with how you're doing" Fernando replied while patting the boy's back. "You must be the mother of this lovely boy, Hi, I'm Fernando" he said directing his attention to Y/N. She couldn't help but giggle, "Hi, I'm Y/N. I know who you, he inherited my love for racing and you" she replied a blush forming at the words she just uttered; hitting herself mentally. Fernando smiled, his eyes glimmering with a playfulness she didn't notice when he spoke to her son. "Well, his mom does have good taste" he said with a smirk. Lance greeted us too, calling Alejandro a protege. Fernando was summoned by the team, "I have to go Alejandro, have fun. I'll see you soon" he smiled at Alejandro; "See you soon, hermosa" he directed these words towards Y/N, shooting a quick wink before he turned around to leave, a flush of crimson kissed her cheeks.

Fernando started 8th and finished 7th. Alejandro really hoped that his idol would finish on the podium but he was happy nonetheless. The day ended with Fernando back at the hospitality after all the post race interviews and podium while the mother and son duo were getting ready to leave. Alejandro handed Fernando a piece of paper, he had drawn him and Fernando on a podium after a formula one race in Spain with the Spanish flag on the top, "You aren't just good at karting, but you are a good artist" Fernando said admiring the art. "Gracias" Alejandro replied. "You should come to see me race, I'm pretty good" he said. "I would love to watch you race" Fernando professed. Now, Fernando turned his attention to the boy's mother, "I don't know if my team said anything, but I would like to help Alejandro reach his dream and exceed his potential." "Your team did say something, but I wasn't sure." Y/N replied while rubbing her hands. "I would like to personally sponsor him but I'll also try to get him sponsors. I know how hard it can be and I would love to watch him reach formula one, if that is his dream." he declared. Y/N smiled, "Muchas gracias, how do I ever repay you for your kindness?" she muttered. "No need to, I'm just happy I can be of help to him." he said while looking at Alejandro who was now busy playing with Lance. Her eyes darted between her son and Alonso. "We should exchange number" he said. Y/N looked shocked, her mouth agape. "So, that I can come to one of his races" he continued. "Oh, yes, yes, one second" she said while pulling her phone out. They exchanged numbers and then said their good bye.

Alejandro had gotten quite after they sat in the car, "What's up, bebe?" Y/N asked her son. "I miss Alonso" he mumbled while wiping away his tears. "Oh no, carino" she said while turning back to hand him a tissue. The little boy's voice came out in quite sobs which racked his body. She pulled the car to the side and climbed back to comfort her son. "It's ok, Alito. You'll see him soon." she comforted the crying boy. "He even gave me his number, we can call him some time later." she suggested which seemed to cheer the boy up.

A while later, Alejandro was competing in the Rotax Max championship in the Mini Max category with help from Alonso who did come to a race. Alejandro was over the moon excited. The two of them had kept in touch after the grand prix. They would call Alonso up every once in a while which lead to Y/N and Fernando also growing closer to each other. With their growing closeness, there were new feelings that had started to take place in both their hearts that neither were aware of. Y/N found herself putting more effort while getting ready before video calls or the race he was supposed to come to. Alito enjoyed his company and Fernando liked having a tiny karting genius. The race which Fernando come, Alito didn't finish podium and was bummed. Fernando cheered him up saying that he didn't finish podium when he came to see him either, so they were even.

After the race, they headed out for dinner. Fernando didn't want the day to end and who was Y/N to say no to him. At the restaurant, the waiter complimented them saying that they were a cute couple, Y/N was ready to correct him but Fernando thanked him. The waiter may have gotten tipped handsomely that night. Alejandro had fallen asleep in the back of the car on the way back to the hotel. Fernando carried him their room. After laying him down on the bed, "I had fun today" he commented. "Me too" Y/N agreed. Fernando hugged her good bye, the hugged lasted longer than between 2 friends, it was like neither wanted to pull away.

The pair got closer to Fernando as time passed. Initially, Y/N used to monitor Fernando and Alejandro's calls, now she would let them talk unsupervised which led to Y/N receiving tickets to the next grand prix and flight. Y/N immediately rang Fernando up, "hey, Fernando." she greeted. "Hi, Y/N" came a groggy voice. "I'm sorry. Did I wake you up?" she apologised. "No, no. What's up?" he cleared his voice. "Did you send me ticket's to the next GP?" she asked. "Yes, we're back in Europe and Alito told me he is on summer holiday." he replied. "Nando, it's too much. I can't" she protested. "It's ok, hermosa. I wanted to see Alito too. I won't get a refund either. See you there" he insisted. "Ok, see you there." she lamented.

They were at the Spanish grand prix for the second time this time. Every thing felt so familiar yet foreign. Fernando had received them at the airport on Saturday and took them to the hotel. At the paddock, Fernando took the two of them along with him, even introducing Alejandro as junior Fernando. The paddock seemed to love him. All the drivers welcomed him with open arms and the boy was more than excited since he had more than 2 people to talk about his love for racing. Alejandro was a little star at the paddock. Once they found out about his karting history, they gave him more tips and tricks on how to do better. He soaked it all up.

Y/N was stood at the side watching them interact. "He's a natural." Fernando commented. She smiled at him, "yes, he is. I'm happy he has good role models" she said. Fernando found his cheeks heating up. Alejandro walked back to his mom with Penelope, "momma, meet my new friend, Penelope." Y/N shook her hand. "Can we get ice cream?" he asked. Y/N smiled and took them to get ice cream after getting Kelly's permission. The two kids ended up talking all the way to the stand and enjoyed their ice cream back.

While they were gone, "You like her" Lewis commented. Fernando looked at him shocked, "What? Is it that obvious?" Fernando asked. "You haven't spent this much time with some one since your divorce and you're literally going to karting races to help the kid. I mean anyone and everyone knows you are interested." Lewis stated. "Maybe, I'm just being nice." Fernando interjected. "Maybe" Lewis hummed; "But I don't think anyone would mind if you had other intentions. Everyone deserves love, especially the both of you, after all the personal stuff that has led you two to each other." Lewis said. Fernando mulled over his thoughts and Lewis's words.

Race day was hectic. Fernando finished out of points but was still happy to spend time with Y/N and Alejandro. They ended up going out for dinner after and spent a lot of time sat in the restaurant. When Y/N had gone to the washroom, Alejandro and Fernando had a conversation. "Alito, can I ask you something?" he asked. "yes" Alejandro replied. "I like your momma. Do you think I should ask her out on a date?" Fernando asked. Alejandro seemed to think about it for a moment. "Does that mean you would become my papa?" he asked innocently. Fernando's heart swelled up with pride and happiness, he didn't want to pressurise the kid but he couldn't help but feel so important and a part of his life. "If you want me to be." Fernando choked out. "I think momma likes you." he stated.

After dropping the mother and son at their hotel, Fernando plucked up the courage and asked Y/N, "Hermosa" he mumbled, his palms sweaty, lips dry; he drove formula one cars for a living for crying out loud, what was happening to him he thought. Alejandro gave him a thumbs up before excusing himself to the toilet. "Would you like to go out with me, sometime, if you're free?" he asked. She looked at him bewildered. "You know I have a son who I'm raising on my own" she questioned. "yes, I've had the pleasure of knowing the bright young racer." he replied. "We're a package deal. I just" she spoke but was quickly cut off by Fernando, "I asked Alito for his blessing before asking you. If this bumps up my chances, he wanted me to be his dad" Y/N eyes were as big as saucers, "He did not say that" she said shocked. "He did. I really like you, I don't know when and how this happened but I genuinely enjoy your company and I would love to spend more time with you as a man and with Alito as a father figure. I don't wanna take anyone's place but carve out a niche for myself." Fernando clarified. She smiled at him. "I think I would like that. I've been hard on myself especially after everything with his dad, maybe I would like to spend time with you as a woman." she said. "I would love to treat you right and show you off" Fernando said. "I'll keep you on that. I'll see you for dinner when you come visit. I don't really have a sitter here" she said. "I know a great sitter, let's go out tomorrow" he suggested. "who's this great sitter?" she chided. "Carlos, I'm sure he wouldn't mind helping out" Fernando said. She nodded her head in agreement. "I'll see you tomorrow then" she said, while placing a kiss on his cheek. Fernando hugged her and kissed her forehead. "see you tomorrow. Good night, mi reina" Y/N blushed while she waved him good bye. Alejandro was listening in on the conversation, ecstatic about his mom and his idol.

Hope you like it.

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dolene · 3 months

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Could you do SMAU for Fernando Alonso with wife baker!reader? She would always bring something with her every time she went to the paddock. So, everyone was looking forward to it when shes gonna grave them with her presence. Nando would always fight for her attention with everyone. The Internet also loves her very much indeed. Something fluff and maybe a little suggestive 👀You decide how it goes. Thanks!! :))

﹙𝒮weetest pie : fernando alonso x reader﹚

she certainly steals the attention of the people around her, especially when everyone likes her new brand that she just introduced recently. but what's wrong if a certain person fights for her attention more when they also begs for hers over time?

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sonreircafe added a photo to their story!

sonreircafe · 17h

alo.png (private)

liked by alex_albon and 258 others

alo.png I might kiss those lips if she kept teasing me with it...

show all 56 comments

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604 notes · View notes

nordschleifes · 5 months

Text

while you're busy making other plans

➝ your secret with fernando is leaked to the world. and you deal with it in the most chaotic way possible

➝ word count: 4,4k

➝ warnings: coparenting, lies, press, andrea being a little shit and fernando dealing poorly with press

➝ author's note: part two of this one shot. hope you enjoy it.

The notification that appeared on your phone screen.

It displayed a thumbnail image of you standing with Fernando in the Aston Martin garage, while he ran his hand through Leon's hair. You had been talking about that day’s sessions, with your son detailing how impressed he had been with the mechanics' work in getting his car ready for each stage of qualifying.

However, the caption of the photo turned your stomach. “They know about Leon”, the message said.

That was what you feared most since the day your son was born. You had read enough articles on the pages of Spanish magazines to know that you didn't want that life for him. But, at the same time, you knew that all that effort would go down the drain one day, especially when Leon began to understand the real intention of the excuses and compromises you made up to prevent his identity from being revealed.

You just didn't expect this day to come so quickly.

The knock on the door made you wake up from your thoughts, jumping out of bed towards the entrance of the suite. When your eyes met Fernando's, you felt your throat tighten.

— Y/N — he murmured.

— Come in — you managed to say, opening the door.

The driver passed you silently, head down. You didn't need anything else to know that he had already seen the photos and that he wasn't happy with them.

— What now? — you asked softly, as he sat down on the bed.

— I don't know, Y/N — Fernando replied, running a hand through his hair — Where is...

— With Alberto, I asked him to take Leon to his room so we could talk.

The driver let out a sigh as you sat down next to him.

— I have no idea how that happened — he muttered.

— Well, it has always been a possibility, and you know it.

Fernando looked at you with a serious expression.

— The thing is, nobody knew who you were. Alberto was careful to request the credentials in the team's name and not mine, we arrived separately — he pointed out — Did Leon say anything to anyone?

— No, no — you replied, shaking your head — He stayed with me or Alberto the whole time, he didn't say anything much.

Silence took over the room for a few seconds.

— This was leaked — Fernando finally said — Someone leaked it to the press...

— Do you think Luis…

— No, not him. It wasn't anyone around me, I'm sure. Everyone knows that Leon's privacy is the most important thing to me. They wouldn't do that to me, Y/N...

— What guarantees you that they wouldn't do it for money or...

— Y/N, no one close to me would do that — the driver interrupted you, a note of irritation in his voice — Everyone knows that Leon is the most important person in my life and that he is my priority. They wouldn't be able to, I know that.

You had no way of opposing him in that sense. Everyone who knew Leon's real identity were people connected to Fernando for almost 20 years and who knew him well enough to know how careful he was with his son. However, your mind went to the people who were no longer around Fernando, and the realization hit you like a train.

— Andrea — you murmured, before looking at him — It could only have been her.

The driver pressed his lips into a thin line.

— Are you sure?

— She's the only one who could have leaked this.

— Y/N, we can't get ahead of ourselves.

— She knows we're here on the circuit, she saw when I arrived with Leon — you argued, despair rising in your chest.

— That doesn't mean she did it, Y/N — he countered. This made you jump to your feet, feeling a wave of anger rising up your neck.

— How so? She is the only one who is no longer in your inner circle who knows Leon and has contact with the press.

— Andrea wouldn't use Leon against me, Y/N, she knows he's the most important person in my life — Fernando replied, making you bring your hand to his face in disbelief. You couldn't believe he couldn't see what was clear in front of him.

— And that's precisely why she would do that! — you yelled — She wants to hit you where it hurts, Fernando! She wants you to be sad too, to suffer! Don't you understand that?!

Fernando remained silent, looking at you with a grim expression on his face.

— Now, our son's face is everywhere because your ex-girlfriend can't accept that you don't want anything to do with her! — You continued, anger dripping from his words.

— Y/N…

— What?!

— She was the one who broke up with me.

The revelation hit you like a punch in the stomach. If Andrea was the one who had broken up with Fernando, supposed revenge on her part wouldn't make any sense. If she didn't want to be with him, there would be no reason to reveal Leon's identity to the press.

You were back to square one.

— Do you want to know why? — he asked softly, as you sat down next to him again.

— Did she give a reason?

— She said that I had well-defined priorities and that she wasn't one of them.

— Priorities?

— The work, Leon — Fernando hesitated for a few seconds — You.

You felt a churning sensation in your stomach.

— Me? What do I have to do with it?

The driver sighed heavily.

— I always made it clear from the beginning that you and Leon were an essential part of my life — he explained — Andrea accepted it well, but when she realized that I wouldn't give up living with you two, that I wanted to have you around, I think something changed in her mind.

— So she left you and decided to get revenge on top of that? — you questioned.

— It doesn't matter now, Y/N. What matters is that everyone knows about Leon and that we need to do something.

You clenched your jaw, deep in thought. It didn't matter who leaked the story, but rather what you would do to protect Leon from the approaching media storm.

— You can say you don’t know us…

— It’s not possible, there are photos of us on other occasions, with my parents, with Alberto…

— You can say he's Alberto's — you murmured, looking at your hands — We can pretend we're a couple, I believe he won't mind that, especially in these circumstances...

— No, definitely not — Fernando said, his voice firm — You will not compromise because of an error in judgment I made.

— So, you're just going to deny everything?

— Do I have another choice, Y/N?

— They won't buy this story...

— It's my word against that of an anonymous source, Y/N — the driver interrupted you — I can say that you are a friend of mine and that I have great affection for you and your family. That's simple.

You were thinking about the countless questions that could arise from that answer when the door to the suite opened.

— Papá! — Leon exclaimed, turning around the bed to go to Fernando and hug him.

— Hola, mijo — he said, forcing a smile on the boy — How are you?

— Good — the boy replied, as he sat on his lap — I was playing Mario Kart with Galle.

When you looked back, you found Fernando's manager and friend with a small smile on his face as he watched Leon with his father. However, as soon as his eyes met your, you could see the worry that permeated them.

— I bet you beat him, didn't you? — the driver asked.

— Yes, I won — Leon said, smiling — Galle slipped a lot on the banana peels!

— If someone hadn't thrown the peels at me, I would have arrived first — he countered, making the boy laugh — I'm going to have my revenge, there's no point in laughing, okay?

— I want to see that, huh? — Fernando said, while his son continued to provoke Alberto, talking about how he couldn't stop bumping at his opponents.

However, the relaxed air of the conversation was haunted by the dark cloud of reality. The looks you exchanged with the two men contained silent messages, requests for normality to be maintained, for everything to remain the same, for Leon's sake. And considering the subtle nods and goodnight hugs they gave the boy, you were sure that the three of you were completely committed to this mission.

The next day featured all the chaos that kept you awake for most of the night. With a cap firmly placed on Leon's head and the instruction to keep his head down, you entered the paddock holding his hand firmly. The questions mixed with the sound of camera clicks, focused on the reactions of the two of you.

— Leon, Leon, here! — one shouted.

— Where did you meet Fernando, Y/N? — another asked.

— Y/N, can you answer a question for us? — a third asked, as you climbed the stairs of the Aston Martin motorhome without saying a word. However, your expectation of going unnoticed there was shattered when you noticed the curious looks of the employees and guests who were there, the whispers multiplying.

You were still frozen in the same spot when you felt someone pull your hand.

— Mamá, can we go upstairs? — Leon asked softly, a shy expression on his face — I want to see papá.

— Yes, my love, let's go.

Trying to ignore the way you were being observed, you headed up the stairs towards Fernando's room, praying that there was no one else in the hallways of the motorhome. When you opened the door, however, you found Fernando accompanied by Alberto and Fabri, the three of them talking about something that was on Alberto's cell phone screen. Upon noticing their serious expressions, you made to close the door, but Leon reacted faster than you.

— Papá! — the boy exclaimed, entering the room without any ceremony, running into his father's arms — Happy birthday!

Fernando greeted him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, seeming not to mind the interruption. Closing the door, you could feel the tension building up in your neck, making your movements somewhat painful. However, this was not the time to let that show, not when Leon was so happy.

— Thank you so much, my love. You don't know how happy having you here makes me.

— Mamá and I have a gift for you! — he said, looking at you with an expectation that made you give a small smile.

— A gift? — the driver followed his son's gaze, seeming interested — You know you don't need to give me anything, right?

— Leon insisted — you replied, as you opened your bag and took out a small box decorated with a fancy gold ribbon bow from inside. Then, taking a step forward, you handed it to Fernando — Happy birthday.

After a few seconds of hesitation, he picked up the box and examined it from the outside, the gold Richard Mille logo catching his attention. Giving his son a smile, the pilot undid the bow and opened the box, his eyes widening when he saw what was there.

— That…

— It's a new watch! — Leon exclaimed — Mamá and I made it for you!

Fernando looked at the gift with surprise, seeming not to believe what he had in his hands.

— You made this? — he asked, as he took the accessory out of the box to look at it.

— Yes! — the son responded immediately — Tell him, mamá!

— Richard said that you talked about samurai culture and that you were thinking about creating a model inspired by that a few years ago — you explained — At the end of last year, he called me to continue the project and this is the first functional prototype, what we call 000.

— I chose the colors! — Leon added, making you smile.

After a few seconds contemplating the details of the watch, Fernando hugged Leon and kissed the boy on the cheek again, murmuring something in Spanish to him. Then it was your turn to get a tight hug from him.

— Thank you for that.

— You know it's the least we can do for you, considering everything you've already done for us.

— It was my obligation, Y/N…

— And this is my way — you stopped, while Leon leaned against one of his father's legs, carefully observing the conversation between the two of you — Our way of showing how much we appreciate you for this.

The driver's smile was wide, framed by the same dimples that Leon had in his cheeks and that, seven years ago, had made your heart beat faster. However, you didn't have time to savor the feeling that took over your chest before he said that he needed to get ready for the meeting with the engineers before qualifying for the Sprint race.

With a new hug from Leon and a promise that you would see each other later, you left Fernando's room and went to the area reserved for team guests, where Melina welcomed the two of you with a wide smile. After suggesting the boy a plate of waffles and promising you that there would be no chocolate sauce like the day before, you stayed there, observing the hospitality and paddock movement, waiting for the time of the activities on the track.

Unfortunately, it had not been Fernando's day. After a difficult and rain-delayed qualifying, the Sprint was even more frustrating. Sitting in front of the television, you shook your foot insistently while Leon was standing, biting his nails even after you told him not to.

Then, exactly what you had been afraid of played out in front of you.

— Alonso! Fernando Alonso! — the narrator exclaimed, making your son's eyes widen — Off the track, on the gravel and outside the Sprint, bringing the Safety Car back to the track here in Spa-Francorchamps.

Repeating the image brought you a bit of relief, as the driver had not, in fact, hit the barrier, but had simply spinned onto the wet track and headed towards the escape zone. However, this didn't make Leon calmer, on the contrary.

— Mamá — he asked softly — Is papá okay?

Looking back at the screen in front of you, the image of Fernando walking alongside the marshalls made you give Leon a smile.

— Yes, he's fine, my love.

— Will he be able to have dinner with us today? — he asked, his voice full of hope.

— Yes, I'm sure. Now, let's continue watching the race and then go down to get a snack, what do you think?

With a vigorous nod, Leon sat down next to you, eyes focused on the action unfolding on the track. He celebrated the fight between Sergio Perez and Lewis Hamilton, as well as the overtaking of Carlos Sainz, saying he was good “like papá”. After the checkered flag and the podium ceremony, you invited your son to come with you downstairs.

Upon arriving at the common room of the hospitality, which was slightly empty, you were talking to one of the employees when you felt Leon pull your hand, trying to get your attention.

— Mamá, look over there — he said softly, pointing to one of the screens. In it, Fernando was in front of the microphone, a serious expression on his face. Giving him a small smile, you turned your attention to the employee, who had questioned you about Leon's juice.

After confirming the order and having your pass scanned, you looked again at your son, who was still staring at the television with a serious expression, as if he was paying attention to what Fernando was saying in Spanish. However, you only discovered what had happened later, when you were back at the hotel.

— Now, you go to the shower and I'll sort your clothes so we can go to dinner with your papá — you said, as you dropped your cell phone on the bed. However, when you turned around, you noticed that Leon was hesitant, his eyes on his hands — Is there a problem?

— Mamá, is papá my real papá?

You blinked, a little shocked by that question.

— Why are you asking?

— They asked papá if he had a son on television — the boy said, his voice full of sadness — And he said no.

Guilt made your heart feel heavy in your chest. You definitely didn't expect Leon to see any of Fernando’s interviews, especially one in which he had been mentioned. Pursing your lips, you tried to reorganize your thoughts, looking for the best answer for him, one that said what he needed to know at that moment and that's all.

However, you didn't even say a word.

— Is it true, mamá?

— My love, please — you murmured, sitting on the bed with wobbly legs, your heart racing inside your chest.

— Papá isn’t my papá? — he continued asking, his brown eyes filled with something you had never seen in him before.

Anger.

— Leon, you don’t know what you’re talking about…

— I do! — the boy exclaimed — I saw papá saying that he didn't have any children, that that was nonsense. He doesn't have a son, I'm not his son!

— Can you hear me, Leon? — your voice rising.

— No! — he shouted — You lied to me! Everyone lied to me!

— It's not like that, let me explain — you tried to say, while the boy walked with heavy steps to the bathroom.

— Lies, all lies! — Leon shouted, before entering the bathroom and closing the door violently.

Something about that scene reminded you of your own adolescence. You felt like you were watching yourself argue heatedly with your parents and, in an attempt to escape that, you hid inside your room, but not before slamming the door hard, taking out all your anger on her.

However, Leon was not a teenager, but just a boy.

He was your little boy.

You didn't even notice when the first tear ran down his face, bitter and completely lost. At that moment, with Leon thinking that his life had been a real lie, you had no idea what to do. Forcibly entering the bathroom to try to explain things felt wrong, as did shouting the truth at the wood.

Then, a knock on the door made something light up in his mind.

Running to the door, you clumsily opened it, praying that it was whoever you needed that was there by your side.

— Good evening — Fernando greeted you, his smile dying when he saw your red eyes and wet cheeks — What happened, Y/N?

— It's Leon — you stammered, your eyes filling with tears.

He walked past you with heavy steps, his expression serious.

— Where is he? What happened to my son?

You looked at him sadly.

— Leon thinks you’re not his father — you just said, your voice breaking.

The driver looked shocked by that, as if he couldn't believe what you had said.

— What?

— He saw the interview after the Sprint and came to this conclusion. I don't know how or why, but he's convinced we lied to him.

Fernando passed a hand over his face, dismayed.

— I didn’t say anything much…

— It was enough for him — you replied harshly, even by your standards. However, he didn't seem to mind, going to the bathroom door and knocking gently.

— Mijo? It's papá, please open.

— No! — Leon shouted.

— Please, my love, let papá explain to you…

— I don't want to hear you!

He let out a heavy sigh, resting his forehead against the wood.

His son didn't want to talk to him, or anyone.

Asking you to inform him of any developments, you watched Fernando exit the suite you were sharing with Leon in silence, his shoulders slumped as if he was carrying something extremely heavy on his back. Probably guilt for having said what shouldn't have been said, even though the intention was the best possible.

The silence after the bedroom door closed seemed to last for ages. Lying in bed, you stared at the ceiling in silence. The tears had already stopped flowing some time ago when you heard the bathroom handle turn and the door open, revealing Leon. Sitting down on the mattress, you saw that the boy's eyes were red and his nose was still running, which indicated that he had been crying.

Silently, he sat near your legs, head down.

— Leon — you murmured, hesitantly.

— I want to leave — the boy said, his voice surprisingly firm.

— But, we have the race tomorrow, papá said...

— I don't want to watch the race anymore — Leon interrupted you, looking at you — I want to go home, mamá.

The news that his son wanted to leave Spa as soon as possible, without even watching the race, hit Fernando like a bombshell. He even asked you to try to convince him to stay until morning, so the two of you could talk better, but Leon was impassive.

And, as the lights came on on the track, the two of you were already in the air, heading home in absolute silence.

The following months followed in the same way. As much as you and Fernando hoped that Leon would give in and talk to his father, he remained impassive. During the summer break, there were many times that the driver went to your house to see him, without any success. The answer was always the same.

— He's not my father.

The only person he still allowed himself to see was Alberto, who was trying to break the barriers imposed by the boy. However, after an afternoon of walking with him, Galle looked at you with a worried expression, a strong contrast to the smile with which he had said goodbye to his godson.

— Did something happen? Is it about Fernando?

— Yeah — he said, passing a hand over his face — I didn't say anything, just to make it clear, it was Leon who asked about Fer and...

— What he said?

— He asked how Fer was doing, with those words. I replied that he was fine, but very sad that he wasn't talking to him, that he was missing him.

— Did Leon say anything about that?

— Just that he doesn't understand the fact that he's missing him because he's nothing to Fernando, he has no reason to care about that — Alberto replied, punctuating with a heavy sigh — Look, Y/N, I really don't know if I don't It's time to sit down with him and explain this misunderstanding...

— You think I didn't try? — you returned, crossing your arms.

— I imagine there is, but maybe you call Fer and the three of you sit down and talk seriously...

— Leon doesn’t want to talk…

— He can't just ignore his own father forever, Y/N — Alberto interrupted you, gesturing with one of his hands — You'll have to come up with some idea to help him, otherwise, Fer will go crazy.

You spent the next few days with that in your head, your mind searching for the best way to show Leon that Fernando was his father and that, above all, he loved him. Among his ideas was the possibility of asking the driver's parents to intervene or simply taking him to a psychologist and letting her lead the conversation.

Until an idea came to your mind.

The easy part was convincing Fernando to do that. Of course, it wasn't simple, considering all the implications it would have on your lives, especially when it came to your privacy. However, the idea of being rejected for the rest of his life by his son made the driver give in.

The real challenge was convincing Leon to sit next to you to watch the television, which was already tuned to the channel he would appear on. The boy resisted bravely, stating that he didn't want to see Fernando and that he didn't like Formula 1 anymore. However, somehow, the image of his father on television made him stop, his eyes attentive.

— We're here with Fernando Alonso, Aston Martin driver, how are you?

— Everything's great — he replied with a smile.

— McLaren will be a challenge for you here in Abu Dhabi, right?

— Yes, totally. In the last two races, we gained more points than them, but we need a small miracle to overcome them — the driver explained — We are separated by 11 points, but we will try. Our main motivation is the constructors' championship.

— Now, with this season over, what are your plans?

— Well, the main thing is to rest, especially after so many trips. After the race, I go home to spend some time with Leon.

The mention to his son made the reporter's eyes widen.

— Leon, you mean…

— My son, yes. I did my best to avoid speculation and protect his and his mother's privacy, but it doesn't do much good right now and, if I can be honest, I was tired of not being able to tell him how amazing he is and how much I love him.

— I assume he likes speed — the man asked, still looking disconcerted.

— He loves it, understands everything and can’t wait to start driving. But he also loves drawing and plays football very well, so we'll have a lot to do during this vacation.

After he greeted the reporter one last time and left the camera, you looked at Leon, who was staring at the television in silence.

— Are you fine, my love? — you asked.

— Papá talked about me — he stammered, looking at you.

— Yes, he did, did you see?

— He said he loves me…

— Papá always loved you, Leon. From the beginning, when you were still in mamá's belly. He loves you very much and nothing will change that.

The boy smiled at you for the first time in a long time.

— Can we call him, mamá?

— Do you want to talk to papá?

— Yes, I do.

You felt tears as you searched for Fernando's contact details on your cell phone. Tapping the video call icon, the driver's image appeared almost immediately on your screen, his expression indicating the anxiety he felt.

— So, Y/N, did it work? — he asked.

Turning the phone to Leon, the boy's smile grew even wider.

— Hi, papá…

— Hi, mijo — you heard Fernando ask with a choked voice — Did you see papá on television?

— I did.

— Did you see I talked about you? — he questioned, with Leon nodding positively in response — Do you understand now that papá loves you?

A few seconds of silence followed, tension building in your shoulders.

Then, another positive wave from the boy made you smile, tears streaming down your face.

— I love you so much, mijo. You are the most precious thing I have in my life and I would never do anything if it wasn't for your happiness and your safety.

— I love you too, papá.

#fa #fernando alonso fanfic #fernando alonso fic #nordswrites #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 x you #fernando alonso x you #formula one x you #fernando alonso x y/n #formula one x y/n #f1 x y/n #formula 1 x y/n

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everythingne · 5 months

Text

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ➛ miss diaz (fa14)

with fernando's new appreciation of tik tok, fans begin to wonder where he's getting the ideas from, until he ends up racing alongside his previously unknown daughter... who is already a driver, and in her twenties.

warnings/notes: fernando my dad fr, this is the silliest little fic i loved making it?? I have never written this man and i regret it hes so silly, quite short and sweet, i might make this a verse? idk. i have too many series' rn, but if people like it ...

faceclaim: none :D!

"Ay, papá, ¡no! [You're gonna get yourself hurt!]"

The Alonso house was never quiet. This was something your mother had come to realize long ago. But now she was concerned. What the hell could you and Fernando be doing that would lead to him getting hurt? Despite your insistence of being well mannered and quiet, your mother knew you could tend to get up to the same level of quirkiness as your father.

It didn't help you were smashing records in Formula 1 Academy, racing alongside women like Lia Block and the Al Qubaisi sisters, all while hiding your identity.

Someone had bashed it into you at twelve you'd only be known as Little Alonso if you continued racing under your fathers name, hence why you had insisted you dropped Alonso and continued with Diaz.

Which you did... after six months of convincing your father.

Who is currently shouting, "I'll be fine, ¡bebita!"

"You have old bones!" Is your remark as your mother gets up from where she's tending to the online store she runs for her business. Sort of like a branch out of her Etsy store. She made really nice custom embroidery on top of her working for a media company that outsourced and trained employees for PR teams.

"I'm not that old!" Fernando's shout makes her laugh into her hand as she steps into the kitchen to see you've got a whole plethora of items out and around you.

"What are you two doing..?" She hums, leaning on the doorframe and watching as both you and Fernando turn to her like deer in headlights.

And then you smile, "Papá wants to make a Tik Tok."

Verónica laughs, watching as her husband attempts to tape his phone to the ceiling fan and she puts her hands up and walks out of the room with a quick sentence over her shoulder, "[I'm not explaining this to Aston Martin!]"

fernandoalonso

liked by missdiaz, astonmartinf1, veronicadiaz, and 683k others...

fernandoalonso: race weekend monaco edition 💚

user1: whos teenage daughter ghost wrote this caption?? how old is ur social media admin nando.

veronicadiaz: mi vida <3

⤷ fernandoalonso: mi corazón <3

⤷ user2: PARENNNTSSS

user3: i love my grid dad fr

missdiaz: youngest rookie on the grid!!

⤷ fernandoalonso: rookie of the year!

⤷ user4: yn and nando interaction. my heart is FULL!!

missdiaz

liked by astonmartinf1, f1academy, fernandoalonso, and 348k others...

missdiaz: monaco pit stop <3

astonmartinf1: thats our favorite academy driver!!

⤷ missdiaz: love u am xx

user1: mother is mothering fr

fernandoalonso: rookie of the year!!

⤷ missdiaz: youngest rookie on the grid!!

⤷ user2: nando become her grid dad pls i beg

user3: shut up shes in monaco.

user4: SO PRETTYYY

You read the headline for a third time, 'F1 Academy driver Y/N Diaz to replace ill Lance Stroll for the Monaco GP.'

There's a happy buzz in the Aston Martin garage, even with Lance being terribly ill this weekend. He'd still shown up in full support of his team, but was too woozy to actually get in the car. Too much of a risk. So, Aston Martin had called on you, and you were genuinely excited to race. So your father escorts you into the garage with a tiny proud smile, and all of Aston Martin knows who you actually are.

But media does not. Neither do some of the other drivers.

Hence how you end up talking with Lando during a press event, and when he gives you a soft smile and edges around asking your age, you have to poke your father's thigh to keep him from commenting on it. Lando has no idea he's blatantly flirting with you in front of your dad, but across from him Lewis is trying not to burst into laughter.

"I feel like I'm missing something." Lando says when the reporter comments on the eyes you, Lewis, and Fernando are giving each other. You look at Fernando and he nods,

"Yeah go for it, hermosa." Fernando taps your knee and you smirk, leaning on your fathers shoulder as you say,

"So my full name is Y/N Diaz Alonso, but I go by Diaz because y'know, my dad's got a pretty good legacy--"

"You're his daughter?!" Lando shouts and the audience starts screaming. Lewis is in practical tears with how hard he's laughing and Fernando's laughing as well. Lando curses, "Shit, man!"

"No hard feelings, man." Fernando reaches over to pats Lando's shoulder, who looks like he'd rather sink into the floor and die than be seen right now. Lewis is literally in tears.

"The fact Nando managed to keep this a secret for so long is unsurprising to me," Lewis says, "I mean, I knew because she was young when I first got to F1 and a lot of the older drivers know--plus Max, I think, because of the Piquets."

"Funnily enough," You giggle into the back of your hand, "Mark Webber's my godfather."

"Really?!" The reporters eyes widen and you nod.

"He's a bad influence, truly. Him and Jenson, oh and Seb, they were teaching me curse words at like four years old." You grin and Fernando laughs, now happily laying his arm across your shoulder to tug you to his side.

"And honestly, she's just like me at her age, so the boys on the track might wanna watch out." Fernando sends a pointed glance to Lando that has you whacking your fathers chest with a giggle.

"I'm more like him in the sense of goofy Renault celebrations Fernando, not like "I knew he'd brake because he has a wife and kids at home" Fernando." You clarify, but a knowing glance from Lewis has you shrugging while your father sits in smug confidence that his daughter will be fine.

And you would be. You were closer to the comments than the celebrations in actuality. Though, you'd never admit that.

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula one fic #fernando alonso fanfic #fernando alonso fic #fernando alonso fanfiction #fernando alonso smau #f1 smau #formula one smau #nicole wrote this

890 notes · View notes

fanfictionismyaddiction · 22 days

Note

Need more This or That especially with Nando x wife reader!!!

A Quiet Heart and a Racing Legend

Wors Count: 812

Pairing: Fernando Alonso x wife!reader

Summary: Y/n a shy individual steps into the spotlight for a televised interview, accompanied by her husband, Fernando Alonso. With Fernando’s loving support and playful banter, the interview turns into a heartwarming experience, showcasing the deep bond and shared humor between the couple.

______________________________________________________________

You had always been shy, preferring the quiet corners of life, far away from the spotlight. But today, you were sitting on a plush sofa, facing a camera crew, with millions of people ready to watch the interview that was about to unfold. And beside you, exuding calm confidence, was your husband—Fernando Alonso, the two-time Formula 1 world champion.

Fernando noticed your nervousness and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. His touch was warm and familiar, and it instantly made you feel a bit more at ease. You offered him a small, nervous smile, which he returned with a grin that could make the sun look dull.

The interviewer, a woman with a friendly face and a notebook full of questions, leaned forward, clearly excited about the segment she was about to introduce.

"Thank you both for joining us today! We've got a fun little game to play—it's a classic 'This or That' challenge. Y/N, are you ready?" she asked, her tone warm and encouraging.

You nodded, feeling your cheeks flush slightly. "I think so," you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Fernando leaned in closer, his shoulder brushing against yours. "Don't worry, cariño," he whispered, "it’ll be fun. And I’ll help you out if you need it."

The interviewer smiled at the obvious affection between the two of you. "Alright, let's start easy! Y/N, would you prefer a quiet evening at home or a night out on the town?"

You hesitated, glancing at Fernando for a moment. "Definitely a quiet evening at home," you said, relaxing a bit now that the question was something you could easily answer. "I think we both enjoy our peace and quiet after all the noise of the race weekends."

Fernando nodded in agreement. "Absolutely. There's nothing better than some good food, a movie, and just relaxing together. And I get to hear Y/N's commentary on whatever we're watching, which is always the highlight," he added with a wink, making you blush and laugh softly.

The interviewer chuckled. "Okay, Nando, this one’s for you. Would you rather be invisible or be able to fly?"

Fernando pretended to think deeply about this. "Well, I already go quite fast, so flying would just be overkill," he said, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "I’d choose invisibility. Then I could sneak up on Y/N whenever she’s lost in a book and see her jump," he teased, nudging you playfully.

You rolled your eyes at him, but there was a smile on your face. "You already do that, and it's not nice!" you protested, poking him in the side. "He thinks it’s funny when I get startled, but one of these days, I’m going to give him a taste of his own medicine."

Fernando laughed, clearly enjoying your shy but playful side coming out. "Oh, I’m sure you will. But we both know I’ll be ready," he said, still grinning.

The interviewer looked delighted with the easygoing banter between you two. "Alright, Y/N, here’s a tricky one. Would you rather always know what Fernando is thinking, or have him always know what you're thinking?"

You bit your lip, considering the question carefully. "I think... I'd rather always know what he's thinking," you said finally. "Not that I don’t trust him, but sometimes he has that look on his face, and I just want to know what’s going on in his mind."

Fernando raised an eyebrow, looking amused. "Oh really? And here I thought you enjoyed the mystery."

You shrugged, feeling a bit more confident now. "Well, maybe. But you’re not always as mysterious as you think you are, Nando."

The interviewer laughed along with you both. "It’s clear you two have a lot of fun together. Last question—Fernando, would you rather win one more world championship or spend an entire month on a deserted island with Y/N?"

Fernando didn’t even hesitate. "The island with Y/N, of course," he said, his voice sincere. "Championships are great, but they’re not what makes life truly special. It’s the moments we share that matter the most."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you felt your shyness melt away completely. You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. "Nando," you murmured, feeling both embarrassed and touched.

He looked down at you, his expression softening. "It’s true," he said simply, and you knew that he meant every word.

The interview wrapped up shortly after, and as the cameras were turned off and the crew began to pack up, Fernando turned to you, his eyes full of warmth.

"See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?" he asked, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

You shook your head, smiling up at him. "No, it wasn’t. Especially not with you beside me."

He grinned and leaned down to kiss your forehead. "Always, cariño. Always."

#fanfiction #reader insert #fanfic #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #fluff #fernando alonso #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso imagine #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso fanfic #formula 1 #formula one #formula racing

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imaginaryf1shots · 2 months

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Slow-Speed to the Finish Line

WC: 2.6K

Fernando x driver!reader

Summery: "You drive me insane, you know that, I can't seem to get you out of my mind." + "my chest... hurts."

Warning: Crash, injuries, curse words

A part of my 1K celebration

Masterlist

Fernando Masterlist

You've been in Formula 1 for so long, coming into the sport as a female was met with opposition from fans and some officials alike. But you've proven everyone wrong with an amazing rookie year and almost beating the 2 times world champion Fernando Alonso as his teammate. You have a very good relationship with all the drivers who've come into Formula 1 through the years. The media had their say on that, but you didn't care. It's not a bad thing to be close to your colleagues. At the end of the day, they're the only ones who can relate to you on so many things. You've become closest with Lewis due to the two of you working together to get more women into formula 1 to have the sport be more exclusive.

Maybe that's the reason why Fernando hated you so much. He and Lewis have been rivals since day one, just like you and him. From day one, he's been against you for some reason, didn't like you or approve of you. It irked you to no end, but you took it out on track. The battles you both share are a fan favourite. Even when you changed teams and were no longer teammates, you still were always at each other's throats. It's a wonder you've never crashed into each

other, you've pushed each other off track more times than you can count. Don't get me started on when you qualify on the same row. The first corner always gets spicey, but never to the point of crashing. You've been in your fair share of accidents on track, but none were because of Fernando.

"You know, there's a reason they do best when they're close to each other." Nico Rosberg once said in an interview, when he was asked about an incident between you and Fernando, that saw you two pushing each other off track both getting penalties for that race. "They push each other to the limit. They just have to learn when to stop."

"They've been in the sport long enough to have learnt." Jensen said, and Nico agreed. "It seems to me that when it comes to each other, it's like they're rookies again."

That race specifically was fire-y between the two of you on track. You found yourself in the FIA section in the paddock, after the race, where all the drivers get weighed and there's a screen showing some parts of the race. Both of your teams were standing side to side as the watched the two of you, the clashing of team kits making this all the more obvious, the rivalry between the two of you. You stand facing each other, your voices cutting through the noise of the garage, a storm is brewing. The air

between you is filled with tension.

"If you haven't pushed me off track, we would've both finished in the points." You say through gritted teeth, your arms crossed and your eyes blazing. "What were you thinking, Alonso?"

"Spare me the lecture." Fernando's tone is icy, and he steps closer. "Maybe if you learned how to defend properly, you wouldn't have ended up in the gravel."

"Defend properly?" You scoff. "That's rich coming from someone who dives into every corner like a maniac, this isn't bumper cars, Alonso."

"You've always been like this." Fernando waves his hand around.

"Like what?"

"You waltz in here and act like you own the place, you've still got a lot to learn about racing, and respect is one of them, maybe start with that." His fists clench.

"Respect?" You laugh sarcastically, taking a step closer, matching his intensity. "I don't need a lesson in respect from someone who thinks he's the king of the track, your arrogance is unbelievable."

"Come on, both of you this is enough." Your team principal arrives on scene and tries to calm you down, his voice was firm, he's sick and tired of having to always break the two of you off. "It's been years and you're still at it.”

You and Fernando glare at each other, both unwilling to back down.

"Just stay out of my way, or you'll regret it." Fernando says with venom in his voice.

"Funny, I was about to say the same thing." You say coldly and wip around your ponytail hitting him in the face, that's how close you two were standing, and walk away.

Now this race was no different, you qualified on the third row with Fernando, there were some things said between the two of you before the race that left your blood boiling. Fernando is only like this with you and you don't know why. You qualified higher than him, but he's on the good side of the track so the start is very important for the trajectory of the race.

When lights go out you press the paddle down, and away you go. You maintain you lead on Fernando overtaking two cars by the first lap, but with one look in your rearview mirror you know that Fernando is behind you.

"Why is he always so close to me?" You ask yourself and focus on the cars in front of you, the track is short so by the third lap cars are still close together and with a yellow sector because of one of the Alpines, everyone is getting even closer. Once the yellow flag is back to green, it happens. You don't know what happened, was it Fernando trying to overtake you while you were trying to over take the car in front of you? Has it finally happened? Did Fernando crash into you?

All you know is that you touch the gravel at a corner and your car is slipping, skidding and flipping a few times before it hits the barrier. You felt the G-force from the hit in your core. Thankfully the car landed on the wheels and you weren't upside down.

A car came up behind Fernando and hit his tire, giving him a puncture at the start of the corner making his car hit yours, the impact into your car, made his car only slide on the gravel before it stopped.

In a few seconds Fernando was out of the car, he caught glimpses of your car as it rolled, the car was totaled, bits and pieces of carbon fibre littered the gravel. It looked like the car was chewed up and spit out, that's the only way for him to describe it. Fernando's feet carried him at a speed he didn't know he possessed. Reaching the car, or what was left of it, he saw your shaking hands as you tried to take off the wheel. Fernando leans in and takes it out for you, he threw it to the side. You seem to be struggling even more, so Fernando steady's himself on the side of the car, gets his arms over the halo and under your armpits and pulls you up. It's a struggle, he felt like you put no weight into it. But you're still conscious so that's a good thing. He knows your family is watching, seeing you out and moving will be a great relief to them.

“I-uh, I.” You struggle to speak, Fernando leads you a bit away from the car before he sets you down, he removes his helmet in super speed to be able to see you better. “I can’t breathe.” You choke out. He lefts you head and unbuckles your helmet and removes it and pulls off your balaclava. Your hands press against your chest.

”What hurts?” He asks in such a tender tone, you haven’t heard before. You try and curl into yourself from the pain, but you only manage to move a bit with a whine and whimper.

”My chest… hurts.”

”Shit!” Fernando looks around and sees the medical car just rounding the corner. “HURRY THE FUCK UP!” He turns back to you, tears gather in your eyes as you struggle to breathe. “It’s okay, they're here, the medics are here.”

Your hand clenches his forearm tightly as if it’s your lifeline, his eyes don’t stray from yours, a look of panic fills yours, it’s a look he’s never seen before.

”You’ll be okay, you’ll be okay.” Fernando stresses, he doesn’t know how he’s comforting, you or himself. only when the medics arrive and pull him away does he move. He stands to the side and watches as they quickly assess you. The ambulance arrives seconds later and you’re carried to the back of it, he doesn’t think twice before he jumps in after you. There’s an oxygen mask placed on your face, as the medic does his check ups, you wince when he touches your chest. But then he presses a spot that had you let out a short strained scream, being unable to breathe properly Meant you didn't have enough air in your lungs to scream so that let to coughing.

“Wah, what's happening?” Fernando panicked as the medic tried to calm you down.

Thankfully it doesn't take long to teach the medbay, you're wheeled out of the ambulance and inside. Fernando is taken for check ups but a few doctors go with you. He's half focused as he goes through the motions.

Your race suit is unzipped and pulled down your arms the fireproofs are cut down the middle. The nurse pauses when she sees your chest, it's all bruised up. The doctor takes a look at you, and he's calling for the ambulance to take you to the hospital.

Fernando finds you after his test, he looks at the frantic medic.

“What's going on?” He asks the doctor.

“She has to go to the hospital.” The doctor tells him while he checks your chest and ribs once more, they put some pain killers in an IV, since you were still feeling a lot of pain.

“Why?” Fernando’s heart dropped once more, this means it’s a bigger problem than he originally thought.

“We need to do some scans.” The doctor told him and they start rolling you out of the make shift medbay and back into the ambulance.

“I'm going.” Fernando says, no one of your team has reached the medbay yet, and he doesn’t like the idea of you going alone.

“What? no you-“ The doctor says as you’re rolled in, Fernando hops in the ambulance and glares at the doctor.

“I wasn’t asking.” His tone left no room for arguments.

“O-okay.”

You’re rushed to the hospital and Fernando stays by your side as much as he was allowed to, one of your team and one of his team arrive, he changes into his street clothes, but still refuses to leave you. Even when you tell him to go, he just says.

”After we know what happened.”

You’ve never seen Fernando this worried and if you weren’t in pain you’d have found it endearing.

“Fernando.” Your trainer calls the driver’s name with his phone pressed to his ear, the spaniard looks up. “The FIA looked at the photoage of the crash-“

”Was it my fault?” Fernando cuts him off, his tone already guilty, maybe he wasn’t pushed after all, and it was his fault all along.

”No, they uh, did you unbuckle y/n’s belt?” He asks him and Fernando frowns, thinking back to when he got you out of the car, it dawns on him now.

”No, I didn’t.” You share a look with the driver before you look at your trainer.

”Guess we know now why my chest is all bruised up.” You mumble.

Just then the doctor walks in with a couple nurses. They have your scans with them, the doctor looks at your trainer and Fernando before he looks back at you.

”It’s alright, we already have our theories.” You tell him to just say what they found.

The doctor says a bunch of things, but all you focus on is, bruised lung, cracked rib and and another three bruised ribs. Your trainer is back on the phone informing the team with your diagnosis.

“Why are you still here?” You ask Fernando when you’re alone in your room.

”I can leave if you want to.” Fernando stands up and heads towards the door when you stop him.

”Why did you come in the first place?” That stops him in his tracks and he turns to look at you, there’s a long moment of silence. “I thought you’d be happy, I’ll be out of the car for a while.”

”I’m not cruel.” Fernando spits out, he’s offended you’d think him so heartless.

”No, but you hate me.” You fire back at him, though your tone is much softer, weaker.

”I don’t… I don’t hate you.” Fernando’s tone waver, he takes a few steps toward your bed.

”Could’ve fooled me.” You scoff and play with the irritating hospital blanket.

”You’re not really all sunshine and rainbows.”

”But what did I do in my first year, you’ve hated me since then.” You frown, this is beyond confusing, Fernando stays silent, and you chuckle dryly. “That’s what I thought, you know, I was so happy to be your teammate, I have no idea why you’re so cold towards me, I’ve never been the instigator to anything that has ever happened between us, maybe on track but nothing to ever warnt this much hate from you, I was so happy to be teammates with the great Fernando Alonso but you’ve made it so hard and -“

”Can you please shut up! You drive me insane, you know that!” Your lips close tight at his admission, his tone turned desperate like he couldn’t hold it in anymore. “I can't seem to get you out of my mind, and I feel guilty about it."

“Guilty? Why are you guilty?”

”You choose to ignore everything and focus on that?” Fernando puts a hand on his waist and the other pinches between his eyes. “You’re the only female in the sport, what would be like if I showed that I liked you, that I want to be with you, that you’ve consumed my every thought and my every dream? Huh? It’s not fair to you, to have your colleague want to date you.”

”You know you’re such a child.” You glare at Fernando and he scoffs. “So what? You have a crush on a girl and instead of telling her you’re mean to her?”

”What else was I supposed to do?” He throws his arms up.

”Fucking tell me!” You’re angry and rightfully so.

”And then what? You’ll reject me and then it’ll be uncomfortable for you.”

“Who said I’d reject you?” Fernando’s eyes snaps to yours, your voice is much softer now, void of the anger.

“W-What?”

”I would’ve gladly gone out with you.” Your voice is barely over a whisper, Fernando moves closer, he’s standing right next to you. “I still would, even though you’re an asshole.”

”Would you?”

”mhmm.” You mumble and give him the smallest smile.

“I’m such an asshole.” Fernando mutters and you grin.

”That you are, but you can start making it up to me, by taking me out on a date.” You say and raise an eyebrow teasing him. “It seems like I’ll be have time off from my job.”

”Anywhere you like.” He promises and takes your hand in his, raising it up to his lips where he presses a soft kiss there.

”It’s a deal then, Fernando.” He closes his eyes and groans. “What?”

”This is the first time you called me Fernando.” You giggle and shake your head softly.

”Get used to it then.”

Main Taglist:

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03 . @schniti-is-in-the-house .

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celemilii · 2 months

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Fernando Alonso x fem!bestfriend random texts

She is recently divorced and Fernando is always there for her and her kids. They've been secretly in love with each other since they were kids but neither of them give the first step

hii, this is based on my Fernando Alonso fanfiction so I'll use "Lucía" as the name of the oc. For the ones who read the fanfic, this is pre-dating <33

let me know if you like this kind of content!

warning: mention to daddy kink, swearing

#f1 #f1 fanfic #fanfiction #formula one #formula 1 #fernando alonso fanfic #fernando alonso #f1 x female oc #fernado alonso x oc #f1 texts #i love friends to lovers #f1 smau

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pucksandpower · 4 months

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Pequeña

Happy Nation: A Series of Standalone Fics

Fernando Alonso x Webber!Reader

Summary: a brutal breakup leads you right into the arms of one of your father's oldest friends (or in which being sooooo normal about Fernando Alonso runs in the Webber family)

Warnings: 18+ content, age gap, taking advantage of an emotionally vulnerable state, breeding, and pregnancy

You sit hunched on your bed, knees pulled up to your chest as tears stream down your face. Your mobile vibrates again and you swipe away another message from your now ex-boyfriend without reading it. How could he do this to you? You thought what you had was real.

Your thoughts drift to home, to your family thousands of miles away in Australia. You long for your dad’s comforting embrace and your mum’s reassuring words. But they’re so far away. You feel painfully alone in this strange English city where you’ve come to attend university.

Before you can stop yourself, you’re dialing a familiar number. It rings three times before a warm voice picks up. “Hola pequeña! What’s wrong?”

“N-Nando ...” You sniffle, trying and failing to keep your voice from cracking. “He … he cheated on me.”

There’s a pause before Fernando responds, his Spanish lilt taking on a protective edge. “That little hijo de puta. I’ll kill him myself.”

You let out a watery laugh. “No, don’t do that. I … I just miss home. Miss my family.”

“Say no more, pequeña. You’re coming to stay with me for a bit, yeah? Can’t have you all alone like this.”

You hesitate, wiping at your tears. “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose ...”

“Impose?” Fernando laughs. “My favorite girl? Never. I’m sending a car to get you right now.”

“No, no, I can drive myself-”

“You’ll do no such thing in this state,” he chides. “Driver’s on his way. Go pack a bag.”

You open your mouth to protest again but think better of it. Fernando can be extremely stubborn when he wants to be. “Okay, okay. Thank you, Nando. Really.”

“De nada, pequeña. I’ve got the guest room all ready for you. We’ll get through this together, yeah?”

His soothing Spanish accent is already making you feel infinitely better. You know Fernando has been close with your family for years, has watched you grow up into the young woman you are today. He’s always treated you like his own daughter.

“I’m looking forward to it,” you say, meaning it. Spending time with Fernando is guaranteed to lift your spirits. “Your place in Silverstone, right?”

“That’s the one. Get packing and don’t worry about a thing. I’ll see you very soon.”

You hang up and immediately start throwing clothes and essentials into an overnight bag with a renewed sense of hope. Fernando always knows just what to do to make you feel better.

Two hours later, you’re being ushered into the backseat of a sleek black sedan by a courteous driver in a pressed suit. He takes your bag and stows it in the trunk before sliding behind the wheel.

“Miss Webber? I’ll be taking you to Mr. Alonso’s residence now.”

You nod, suddenly exhausted from all the crying. The driver seems to sense your melancholy because he doesn’t try to make small talk.

The English countryside whips by in a blur of green fields and quaint villages. Before you know it, the sedan is pulling up to an impressive brick estate surrounded by beautifully manicured gardens.

The driver lets you out and leads you up to the front door, which swings open before you can knock. Fernando stands there in a soft white sweater and dark-washed jeans, arms open wide.

“Pequeña!” His eyes crinkle at the corners as he pulls you into a fierce hug. “Welcome, welcome.”

You breathe in his comforting scent of sandalwood and citrus as he rubs soothing circles on your back. “I’m glad you came,” he murmurs.

He ushers you inside and you can’t help but gape at the tasteful, modern interior decor. It’s bright and airy, with huge windows offering views of the impeccable gardens beyond.

“This place is incredible, Nando,” you say, trailing behind him as he leads you through the spacious living room towards what appears to be the kitchen.

“You like?” He grins over his shoulder. “I had it remodeled not too long ago. Here, have a seat.” He pulls out a barstool at the huge kitchen island.

You take a seat, settling your elbows on the cool granite surface as Fernando busies himself at the stove. “So,” he says without turning around. “Tell me everything, from the beginning. Don’t leave out a single detalle.”

You sigh, resting your chin in your hands as Fernando starts pulling ingredients from the fridge. “Well, it started a few weeks ago. ..”

You recount all the little things that, in hindsight, were red flags: the constant emailing and texting, the unusually long nights “studying” at the library, the bizarre excuses. Fernando listens intently, occasionally tossing in a sympathetic “maldito idiota” or an indignant shake of his head.

Finally, you get to the part where you finally confronted your now ex about his shady behavior … only to have him confess that he’d been cheating on you for months with some underclassman sociology major.

By the time you’ve finished, your voice is thick from holding back a fresh wave of tears. Fernando sets down the knife he was using to chop vegetables and comes around the island to pull you into another hug.

“Oh, pequeña,” he murmurs into your hair. “Lo siento mucho. You didn’t deserve any of that, you hear me?”

You just nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Fernando rubs your back again before pulling away, hands on your shoulders so he can look you square in the eyes.

“Listen. That boy?” A feisty glint enters his warm hazel eyes. “He’s a fool, a complete and total imbecile for hurting someone as incredible as you. You’re so brave, so strong, so full of life ...” He tucks an errant strand of hair behind your ear. “And any man should consider himself the luckiest in the world to have you in his life, you understand?”

You manage a watery smile and nod again. Leave it to Fernando to know exactly what to say to begin mending your broken heart.

“Good.” He straightens up, clapping his hands together decisively. “Now dry those tears, pequeña. I’m making my famous seafood paella for dinner tonight and I’ll need my best assistant chef!”

You let out a surprised laugh, swiping at the dampness on your cheeks. “You know I’m a disaster in the kitchen.”

“Nonsense!” Fernando waves a dismissive hand as he returns to the cutting board. “Everyone can learn with a little guidance from Chef Nano, no?”

The next couple of hours pass in a blur of cheerful chopping, stirring, and laughing as Fernando walks you through the steps, nudging you gently whenever you veer off course. It’s impossible to stay weighed down by your sadness when he’s cracking jokes in that irreverent way of his and peppering you with silly kitchen nicknames.

By the time you’ve portioned out the fragrant saffron rice studded with shrimp, mussels, and clams into bowls, you’re doubled over in a fit of giggles from Fernando’s dramatic retelling of his past Formula 1 antics.

“... And then this crazy Australian madman comes barreling into the pit and just starts laying into me!” He throws his hands up, eyes dancing with mirth. “If Charlie hadn’t stepped in, I think your old man really might’ve killed me that day!”

You shake your head, still laughing as you take your first bite of the paella. It’s absolute perfection, the flavors melding together in an incredible symphony on your tongue. “My dad really went after you?”

“Oh yeah,” Fernando chuckles, digging into his own bowl. “We were like two crazed animals back then whenever we were on the track together. Couldn’t stand each other.”

There’s a lull as you both focus on eating for a few minutes. When you’re pleasantly full and satiated, you sit back with a contented sigh.

“Nando, that was hands down the best paella I’ve ever had.”

“You flatter me too much.” He waves a hand, but you can tell he’s pleased. “Just wait until tomorrow, when Chef Nano teaches you how to make the perfect tortilla Española, eh?”

The idea of getting to spend more time with Nando and being cooked for brings a genuine, untroubled smile to your face for the first time in days. This is just what you needed to start healing from your recent heartbreak.

***

As you help Fernando clear the dishes, a comfortable silence settles between you. He pours you both generous glasses of his favorite Spanish rioja and you retire to the plush living room sofas.

Fernando settles into the overstuffed armchair across from you, stretching out his lean legs as he takes a sip of wine. “So, pequeña ...” He fixes you with that warm, piercing gaze. “What is it you really want? In a man, I mean.”

You pause, considering his question as you swirl the ruby liquid in your glass. “I … I’m not sure I know anymore, to be honest. I thought I had it all figured out with ...” You trail off, unable to even say your ex’s name without a pang of hurt lancing through you.

Fernando reaches over to pat your knee comfortingly. “Hey, no more tears, okay? That pendejo is in the past. I’m asking what your ideal partner would be like going forward. What do you want, need, deserve from a man?”

You take a fortifying sip of the bold, peppery wine before responding. “I think … more than anything, I just want to feel cherished. Valued. Like I’m the most important person in his world.”

Fernando’s expression softens. “Oh, pequeña. You have such a big, beautiful heart. Of course that’s what you want — to be adored and treated like the incredible woman you are.”

You duck your head, warmth blooming in your cheeks at his praise. “I don’t know, Nando. Maybe I’m just being naive or asking for too much ...”

“Claro que no!” He leans forward, pinning you with an intense look. “You’re allowed to want those things, pequeña. You’re allowed to be selfish when it comes to your heart and what you need to be truly, deeply happy.”

His words resonate somewhere deep within you and you find yourself nodding slowly. “You’re right. I am allowed to want someone who makes me their whole world and never takes me for granted, aren’t I?”

“Exactamente.” Fernando reaches over to grasp your hands, his calloused fingers engulfing yours. “And let me tell you — any man who doesn’t give you that is un verdadero idiota. You deserve to be cherished, worshipped, put up on a pedestal every single day.”

His dark eyes burn with conviction, lips pressed into a serious line. You find yourself unable to look away, mesmerized by the sheer intensity of his words and manner.

“You deserve everything, pequeña,” he continues in a low, gravelly tone. “A man who makes you his whole priority, who loves you with every fiber of his being. Someone who will lay the world at your feet.”

Fernando reaches up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb stroking over the apple of your cheekbone reverently. The calloused pad of it sends a shiver racing down your spine.

“Someone who looks at you and can scarcely breathe for how lucky, how blessed they are to have you in their life ...”

His face is so close to yours now, his warm breath caressing your lips. You’re completely transfixed, body thrumming with barely restrained tension and … anticipation?

Fernando’s next words are barely more than a hoarse rumble. “I will cherish you, pequeña. Always. Allow me to show you how a real man adores the woman he loves.”

And then his mouth is on yours, hot and insistent and tasting of wine and desire. You gasp into the kiss, frozen for a split second before melting against him, kissing him back with equal fervor. Your hands slide up to tangle in the soft strands at the nape of his neck as he angles his head, deepening the heated exchange.

Fernando groans low in his throat, the vibrations shooting straight to your core. His large, nimble hands come up to frame your face, holding you in place as he takes his time thoroughly exploring your mouth, nibbling at your lips, stroking his talented tongue against yours in a way that has you whimpering into him.

He pulls away slightly and you chase his lips with a soft keen of protest. Fernando chuckles darkly, nosing along your jaw.

“Patience, pequeña,” he rumbles against the sensitive skin just below your ear. “As sweet as that gorgeous mouth is, there are so many other parts of you I’ve been longing to taste ...”

A full-body shudder wracks you at his words, at the sheer need and promise lacing his tone. Part of you is stunned by how quickly the atmosphere between you has shifted, how easily you fell into his passionate embrace.

But a much larger part — the part that has admired and idolized this man since you were knee-high — is utterly intoxicated. Delirious with the knowledge that the love you’ve secretly harbored for Fernando for years is, impossibly, reciprocated.

His mouth is trailing hot, openmouthed kisses along the column of your throat and you tilt your head back with a wanton moan, reveling in the rasp of his day-old stubble against your sensitized skin.

“N-Nando ...” You try to put a protesting note in your voice, but it comes out a pleading whine instead. “Are you sure about this? I’m … I’m just a kid to you.”

He rears back to pin you with a look so full of naked want it makes you squirm. “You stopped being a kid a long time ago, pequeña,” he growls. “I’ve been watching you grow into this gorgeous, fiery woman and it’s taken everything in me not to take you into my arms like this until now.”

His hands roam down to palm your waist, fingers flexing possessively against the dip of your sides. You’re breathless, dizzy, wondering if you’ve stumbled into some incredible, wildly realistic dream.

Because surely this — with your longtime crush, the older man you’ve harbored forbidden fantasies about pulling you flush against his strong frame and lavishing kisses up the side of your neck — cannot be real. Can it?

“It’s real, pequeña. So, so real,” Fernando croons, as if reading your mind. He frames your face again, searing you with another passionate kiss that steals your breath and chases away any remaining doubts. “Feel how real it is,” he murmurs, guiding your hands down to the firm evidence of his arousal straining against the soft denim.

You whimper into his mouth, tentatively palming the thick bulge. Fernando hisses in a sharp breath through his teeth and breaks the kiss to press his forehead to yours. His eyes are tightly shut, long lashes fanning across sunkissed skin.

“F-fuck, pequeña,” he chokes out in a ragged voice. “Been dreaming of those little hands on me for years.”

Something inside you shifts at his confession, like a dam of long repressed want and need cracking open. You suddenly feel bolder, empowered by the effect you’re having on this man — this god among men who you’ve put on a pedestal for so long.

Maintaining heated eye contact, you slowly drag your hand up the length of his erection in one firm stroke that has Fernando’s hips jerking up as he curses vehemently in Spanish.

“Like this?” You rasp, a blatant challenge in your tone as you repeat the motion.

Fernando’s eyes flash hungrily and then he’s surging forward again, capturing your lips in another punishing kiss that leaves you lightheaded and alight with lust.

“Just like that, mi amor,” he growls when he releases your mouth with a final nip at your lower lip. “Now it’s my turn to cherish you ...”

With that, he loops an arm behind your knees and rises in one smooth, powerful motion, hoisting you up into a secure bridal carry. You yelp in surprise, hands flying up to cling to his broad shoulders.

“Nando! What are you, mmph-”

Your protest is cut off by his mouth slanting over yours in another heated kiss. Fernando maneuvers you easily as he starts carrying you towards the staircase, hiking your dainty linen dress up around your thighs.

“I’m making good on my promise, pequeña,” he murmurs hotly against your swollen lips. “Bedroom. Now. Going to lay you out and cherish every sweet inch of that gorgeous body, just like you deserve.”

Unbidden, a soft whine slips from your throat at his heated words. You tighten your grip on his shoulders, fingers digging into the firm muscle there as a fresh wave of arousal floods through you, hot and insistent.

Fernando chuckles darkly, adjusting his grip on you as he starts up the stairs. “That’s it, let me hear how much you want this too.”

You open your mouth to respond but only a needy whine escapes as Fernando hitches you higher in his arms, the movement causing delicious friction against your core.

“I want, ngh-” Your words dissolve into another needy noise as Fernando nips at the juncture of your neck and shoulder in reprimand.

“Use your words, pequeña,” he rumbles against your tingling skin. “Tell me what you want.”

You don’t have a chance to reply before he’s kicking open a door and striding into what must be the bedroom, depositing you gently onto the plush center of an enormous bed. Fernando looms over you, chest heaving as he rakes his heated gaze over your prone form in a way that makes you shudder.

“Nando, I … I want you,” you finally manage, fighting past your shyness to meet his burning stare. “Want you to cherish me, cherish every part of me, like you promised.”

Fernando’s eyes darken further at your words and he slowly, purposefully begins lifting his sweater, never looking away from you.

“Good girl,” he praises in that deep, gruff tone that has your thighs pressing together instinctively. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

He shrugs off the soft knit, revealing a toned, hair-dusted chest and abdominal muscles carved from years of intense athletic training. You can’t help but drink in the display of his powerful body as he reaches for the buckle of his belt.

Fernando doesn’t miss your frank appraisal, a cocky smirk tugging at his full lips. “Like what you see, pequeña?”

You bite your lip and give a small, shameless nod. His grin widens and with a few deft flicks of his wrist, Fernando’s belt is undone and sliding free of its loops. You watch, rapt, as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans and boxer briefs in one smooth motion.

“Then no more teasing,” he promises in a low, heated rasp. “Tonight you’ll have as much of me as you can handle.”

With that, Fernando pushes his trousers and underwear down over his hips in one go, springing free in all his thick, flushed glory. Your eyes widen and you suck in a sharp breath at the sheer size of him, mouth going dry with naked want.

Fernando steps forward until he’s standing at the edge of the mattress, gloriously nude and incredibly aroused. He crouches down, bringing himself eye-level with your flushed face as he reaches out to gently take your hands in his calloused grip.

“Are you sure, pequeña?” He searches your gaze intently. “Because once I claim you, mark you as mine in every way … there’s no going back. I won’t ever let you go.”

His raw confession hangs in the heated air between you. You meet Fernando’s fiery gaze without faltering, threading your fingers through his in silent acceptance. His eyes blaze and then he’s surging up over you, capturing your mouth in another searing, all-consuming kiss as he slowly, reverently hikes your dress up and divests you of your last remaining garments.

You wind your arms around his thick neck, holding him close as Fernando settles between your splayed thighs with a low, guttural groan. He rears back just enough to pin you with another scorching look, stealing your breath.

“You’re mine now, pequeña,” he vows roughly, guiding his thick length to your slick entrance. “And I’m going to spend all night cherishing this sweet body, just like you deserve ...”

Fernando braces himself above you with one powerful forearm, using his free hand to grip your thigh and hitch your leg higher around his lean hips. You keen softly as the new angle allows him to sink even deeper, filling you up so deliciously.

He drops his forehead to yours, dark eyes locked on your parted lips as he starts rocking into you with slow, measured strokes. Each deliberate grind of his pelvis against yours has you whimpering, nails raking down the flexing planes of his back.

“That’s it, pequeña,” Fernando croons, punctuating his words with a sharp roll of his hips that has you crying out. “Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.”

You try to muffle your sounds against his broad shoulder, but Fernando isn’t having it. He slides the hand not braced on the mattress up to cup the back of your neck, tilting your head so your mouths are a hairsbreadth apart.

“No, no … I want to hear every gorgeous, needy little noise,” he rumbles, lips brushing yours with each scorching word. “Want to hear you begging for more of my cock, stretching you so perfectly ...”

A desperate whine slips free at his filthy words, your walls fluttering around his rigid length in defiant response. Fernando rewards you by capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his talented tongue teasing against yours as he picks up the pace of his thrusts.

You moan brokenly into his mouth, legs locking around his narrow waist as Fernando sets a rhythm of steady, pounding strokes. Each slick glide has you building higher and higher, pleasure bordering on overwhelming. It’s so much after so much time without, yet somehow not enough.

You tear your lips from his with a ragged gasp, throwing your head back against the pillows. “M-More, Nando! Please … ah!”

Fernando grunts in approval at your needy plea, hips snapping forward to bury himself deeper. “As you wish, pequeña ...”

He sits up further on his knees, using the new leverage to drive into you with increased force and intensity. The lewd noises of your joining fill the air — skin slapping against skin, your cries of pleasure mingling with Fernando’s low groans of exertion.

Part of you feels like you should be embarrassed by the wanton sounds spilling from your lips. But a much bigger part is just reveling in the indescribable feeling of being taken apart so thoroughly by this incredible man’s skilled body.

Fernando hooks an arm under one of your knees, nearly bending you in half as he leans down to mouth hot, openmouthed kisses from your collarbone up the slender column of your throat. You keen wildly, fingers spasming against the rippling muscles of his back.

“Do you want it harder, pequeña?” He growls the filthy words against the racing pulse point under your jaw. “Want Papi to fuck you just like the needy little girl you are?”

A choked whimper is all you can manage in response, rendered incoherent by his merciless onslaught against that sensitive cluster of nerves deep inside you.

Fernando’s lips curl into a satisfied smirk against the side of your neck and then he’s driving into you with renewed vigor, hips pistoning in short, brutally powerful snaps that quickly have you keening. Your nails leave stinging welts in their wake as they drag down Fernando’s glistening shoulders and back, but he doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

“That’s it, taking me so well,” he grits out through clenched teeth, each word punctuated by a nasty grind of his hips that has you crying out. “Such a good girl for Papi, con esas caderas tan estrechas ...”

His dirty Spanish murmurs nearly do you in, shooting white-hot sparks of pleasure-pain arcing across your nerve endings. You swear your vision nearly whites out entirely when his calloused fingers find your swollen bud, stroking firmly in tight, rapid circles that have you keening.

That familiar, coiling tension is rapidly becoming too much to bear. You can feel your orgasm fast approaching, building and building with each punishing thrust into your greedy little hole and stroke against that hypersensitive bundle of nerves.

“Nando, Nando,” you pant, clutching desperately at his flexing biceps as your thighs begin to tremble uncontrollably. “I’m gonna, ah, fuck, I can’t-”

Fernando’s response is a series of harsh Spanish curses that would make a sailor blush. His mouth crashes against yours in a searing, messy kiss, swallowing your cries as he fucks you right through your release.

Wave after relentless wave of excruciating ecstasy crashes over you. You tremble and wail into Fernando’s mouth, pulled taut as a bowstring as he milks every last exquisite pulse from you with those sharp, unforgiving snaps of his hips.

Just when you think the pleasure searing along every nerve ending will break you into pieces, Fernando’s rhythm falters. He rears back, baring his teeth in a feral snarl that sends a fresh shock of desire arrowing straight to your core.

“Going to fill you up now, pequeña,” he grits out in a gravelly tone laced with strain. “Make you nice and, ah mierda, messy with Papi’s cum ...”

The sheer filth of his words, combined with his furious tempo draws animalistic whimpers from deep in your chest. You lock your ankles at the small of his back, taking him deeper as he starts to lose control.

“Please, Nando!” You beg shamelessly, reaching up to dig your fingers into the straining chords of muscle in his back and shoulders. “Please cum inside me, wanna be yours, wanna-”

Fernando cuts off your fervent cries with a harsh growl and then he’s slamming home one final time, burying himself to the hilt as he spills molten heat deep in your convulsing channel with a stream of strained Spanish curses.

You shudder and cry out at the incredible sensation of being filled so completely, holding him flush to you while he pulses and throbs. Fernando captures your lips in another searing kiss, fucking his tongue into your mouth in time with the shallow rolls of his hips as he spends himself.

Just when you think the incredible intensity of his release will never end, the shrill trill of a ringtone shatters the sweaty, panting silence of the bedroom.

Fernando goes rigid above you, finally breaking the fevered kiss with a curse that shoots straight to your over-sensitized core.

“Fucking hell, now?”

His tone is one of pure annoyance as his darkly tousled head whips towards the nightstand where his mobile is ringing incessantly. One large hand flexes against the sheets beside your head, ready to simply ignore the call.

Until, that is, he sees the caller ID and his entire demeanor shifts from one of irritation to something more sheepish. He immediately sits up on his haunches, the movement tugging at your overstuffed, abused entrance in the most delicious way and drawing a helpless whimper from you.

Fernando fixes you with a heated look, plush lower lip caught between his teeth as he drinks in your disheveled, satisfied state sprawled wantonly across his rumpled sheets. Only then does he make a sudden, aborted movement to grab the still-ringing phone, gaze flickering down to where you’re obscenely joined.

“Don’t you dare pull out,” you pant in warning, clenching down hard around him as he shifts to reach for the mobile. Fernando groans explosively at the vice-like grip, arm falling back to brace himself against the mattress.

“Insatiable,” he accuses with a dark chuckle. He somehow manages to snag the still-trilling phone without dislodging himself and you shamelessly squeeze down even tighter in petty retaliation. Fernando tosses you a smoldering glare that makes heat lick along your nerve endings before he finally answers.

“Hola?” His deep voice is rougher than usual, gravelly from the thoroughly ravished state you’ve put him in.

“Fernando! Mate, it’s me.” Your father’s crisp Aussie tone immediately filters through the speaker and you inadvertently clench down again in panic.

Fernando’s lips peel back in a mild wince before smoothing back into that trademark smug grin of his. He drops his free hand to splay possessively over your lower abdomen, thumb rubbing idle circles into the soft, oversensitized skin there as he regards you with dark, hooded eyes.

“Mark!” He greets your father with forced nonchalance, even as the pads of his calloused fingers dip dangerously close to where you’re still intimately joined. “What can I do for you?”

There’s a pregnant pause during which you can practically picture the slight frown creasing your dad’s brow at Fernando’s strange tone. “Er, sorry to bother you, Nando. I was just ringing to see if my daughter made it to you alright?”

You suck in a sharp breath, eyes going wide as Fernando’s lips quirk up in a devilish smirk. Instead of answering right away, he drags the tip of one finger agonizingly slowly through your damp curls in a wordless warning.

Biting your lip to stifle a moan, you obediently stop clenching your internal muscles, allowing Fernando to sink that few extra incredible inches back inside you with a roll of his hips. His eyes burn with smug satisfaction when you keen softly at the feeling of being so deliciously full.

“She arrived safe and sound,” Fernando finally replies, voice gone low and rough in a way that has your thighs trying to clench instinctively. He holds you open by digging the heel of his palm against your mound, lips twitching when you whimper. “I’m taking very … very good care of her. You don’t need to worry.”

Another pause from your father’s end, this one even longer. You can picture the perplexed furrow in his brow deepening as he tries to figure out the strange undercurrent in Fernando’s tone.

“Right … well, good then. I just wanted to check in and make sure she got there okay after that whole mess with her asshole of an ex.”

You shudder at the memory, hips shifting restlessly against Fernando’s calloused palm in a plea for friction, pressure, anything. He simply watches you squirm with darkly glittering eyes, lazily rubbing his thumb in soothing little circles just below your navel.

“Trust me,” Fernando finally rumbles, voice gone low and graveled in a way that sends a shiver of desire arcing down your spine. “Your little girl is being very well looked after, in every way.”

Your cheeks burn hot at the blatant innuendo lacing his words. Fernando’s smirk widens, like he enjoys seeing you so flustered, before he continues in a tone of exaggerated innocence. “She’s been … quite the handful, really, but I don’t mind.”

Your breath hitches in your throat and you shoot him a betrayed look, clenching reflexively around the thick length still sheathed snugly inside you. Fernando arches one artfully sculpted brow as if in challenge, using his free hand to firmly grip one of your thighs and wrench your legs obscenely further apart in clear retaliation.

You muffle a whimper into the sheets as the new position allows him to grind deeper, that delicious friction quickly unraveling your will to stay quiet. You can already feel the coil of need building rapidly once more with each shallow roll of Fernando’s hips.

“What was that?” Your dad’s mildly bewildered voice suddenly crackles over the line, jarring you back to the reality of the situation.

Cheeks burning with a mixture of arousal and mortification, you blindly grasp for one of the pillows to muffle the series of pitiful noises now spilling past your lips as Fernando ups the intensity of his thrusts.

He leans in closer until the two of you are practically nose-to-nose, teeth sinking into that plush lower lip when you instinctively tighten around him like a velvet vise. Fernando’s eyes roll back briefly before fixing back on you, dark and fathomless as the depths of the Mediterranean.

“Nothing to worry about over here,” he pants through gritted teeth, one hand leaving its bruising grip on your thigh to curl around the back of your neck and pull you into a searing, filthy kiss designed to swallow any incriminating sounds. “Like I said. Just … taking very good care of your little girl.”

There’s one final confused little hum from your father before the line clicks off with a hollow beep. Fernando instantly drops the phone and slants his mouth hungrily over yours once more, all thoughts of the call instantly forgotten as he resumes fucking up into you with renewed vigor.

“My little girl, aren’t you pequeña?” He grates against your lips, punctuating each word with a scorching grind of his hips that has sparks bursting behind your eyelids. “Going to be a good girl and cum all over Papi’s cock again, sí?”

You can only nod wildly in agreement, nails raking down his broad back as that incredible tension inside you winds tighter and tighter. Fernando swallows your cries with his wicked, talented mouth, until finally you go rigid in his arms, back arched as your release rockets through you like a shockwave.

This time Fernando doesn’t even attempt to stifle your hoarse, animalistic keening, merely rearing back to watch in fascination as your complexion colors and your eyes roll back. He growls your name like a prayer, hips snapping erratically as he uses your convulsive flutters to chase his own high. Fernando’s chiseled features contort in pleasure, teeth sinking into his own lip hard enough to draw blood when you bear down with the vise-like strength of your release.

“F-Fuck … gonna … gonna fill you up again,” he grits out, thick cock jerking deep inside your molten depths. “Make you … gonna ah … make you mine forever this time, pequeña ...”

The gravelly promise in his tone somehow penetrates the sweaty, lust-hazed cocoon surrounding you. Your eyes fly open just in time to witness Fernando’s own clenched shut, jaw dropped in a growl as he buries himself to the hilt with one final, bruising grind of his pelvis.

You cry out at the incredible sensation of his release flooding your already stuffed channel with scorching ropes of thick seed. Fernando lets out a shuddering moan of pure gratification, hips working in short, shallow thrusts to pump every last pulse of his sticky essence into your greedy little womb.

When the last tremor of his climax has wrung through him, he drops bonelessly on top of you in a sweaty, panting tangle of sated limbs. You whimper quietly at the delicious feeling of his weight pinning you to the mattress, his softening length still lodged snugly inside as the two of you bask in the afterglow.

Fernando nuzzles into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, pressing lazy, opened-mouthed kisses to your slick, overheated skin. His talented fingers trace abstract patterns up and down your sides, touch reverent as his gravelly voice rumbles against you.

“Going to get you nice and full, pequeña. Fill you up again and again until my baby takes ...”

A violent shudder wracks through you at the filthy promise in his words. Fernando chuckles darkly, gathering you closer against his sweat-slicked chest as his hand drifts down to cup your lower abdomen with tender possessiveness.

“That’s it, let it sink in,” he croons, fingertips rubbing in gentle circles. “My seed taking root deep inside this sweet little womb, putting a baby in your belly ...”

He punctuates the words with a firm press of his palm that has you gasping, walls fluttering greedily around the thick shaft still impaling you. Fernando makes a noise of deep approval low in his throat.

“Going to keep you just like this,” he vows in a tone that brooks no argument, hot and heavy against the sensitive shell of your ear. “Barefoot and pregnant in my bed, that gorgeous body swollen and glowing with my hijo ...”

You whimper at the image his words conjure up — your belly rounded and stretched taut with Fernando’s child, heavy breasts leaking as you cradle his son or daughter. Fernando husks out a laugh at your reaction, nosing along the line of your jaw until you meet his heated gaze.

“You like that idea, don’t you pequeña?” His eyes glitter with a mixture of desire and predatory satisfaction. “Being tied to me forever, in the most permanent way possible?”

You can only nod dumbly, suddenly rendered mute by the depths of your own yearning. Of course you want that — to carry this incredible man’s legacy inside you for all the world to see. To belong to him, completely.

Fernando rumbles his approval against your swollen lips, cupping the back of your head to angle your mouth for a tender, lingering kiss. When he finally breaks away, you try to chase his mouth with a breathless whimper of protest.

“Shh, patience, pequeña,” he murmurs indulgently, thumb stroking over your slick lower lip. His eyes are dancing with dark promise. “You’ll have plenty of time to take your fill of me in the coming months while I breed you over ...”

He kisses the words into the hollow of your throat, teeth grazing the rapid flutter of your pulse point.

“... and over ...” Fernando rolls you onto your back in one smoothly powerful motion, settling his weight over you as he lips trail a blazing path down your abdomen.

“... and over again.” His tongue dips briefly into your navel before he nuzzles lower, nose nudging through your damp curls until his warm breath ghosts over your overstimulated sex. You suck in a ragged gasp, thighs trembling with anticipation as Fernando glances up at you from under those ridiculously long lashes.

“Until it finally takes,” he finishes with a wicked grin before ducking down to swipe one firm lick through your folds. You nearly black out from the electric shock of pleasure-pain, broken cries echoing through the bedroom as Fernando sets to work thoroughly mapping every intimate inch of you with that devilishly skilled mouth and tongue.

True to his filthy promise, Fernando keeps you until the first rosy hints of dawn are just beginning to lighten the horizon outside, thoroughly ravishing your helpless body over and over again until you’re boneless and incoherent with satiation.

It’s only when the first few birds have begun to chirp their morning songs that he finally relents, blanketing you with his solid weight one last time. Fernando’s lips are kiss-swollen as they trail up the line of your throat to find yours in one more long, thorough kiss that leaves you totally plundered.

“Sleep now, pequeña,” he rumbles against your parted mouth, gathering you close as his hand drifts down to splay possessively over the slight tautness of your lower abdomen. “Let my release take nice and deep inside you ...”

You slip into unconsciousness to the sensation of Fernando’s calloused fingertips rubbing soothing circles over your skin and the imprinted promise of his low, sleep-roughened vows.

“I’m going to put a baby in you, pequeña. Going to breed you so full of my children until you’re round and glowing with them … that’s a promise.”

***

Six Months Later

Fernando can’t keep the swell of pride and possessiveness from blooming in his chest as he guides you through the paddock with a supportive hand on the small of your back. His dark gaze keeps flickering down to admire the swell of your belly peeking out beneath the flowing summer dress you’ve chosen for today.

He feels like a conquering king surveying his latest prize as you waddle adorably at his side, the golden sunlight caressing your features and lending a rosy flush to your glowing complexion. Fernando has never seen a more beautiful, ethereal sight than you in this moment — rounded with his child, your body transformed by the life blossoming within.

His hand subconsciously moves to cup the subtle curve of your belly as you pause to allow a team member to pass. Fernando feels a fresh surge of scorching desire and smug satisfaction race through his veins when you instinctively cover his hand with yours, cradling his palm against the taut swell.

“Easy there, pequeña,” he rumbles with a wolfish grin, leaning in until his lips brush the delicate shell of your ear. “We’re in public, remember? Wouldn’t want to give these pendejos an eyeful of how insaciable my little girl has become since getting knocked up ...”

A delightful shiver visibly ripples through you at his words, those gorgeous eyes fluttering shut for the briefest of moments before fixed back on him blown wide and dark with rekindled want. Fernando lets out a low chuckle of approval, arm winding around your waist to pull you flush against his side.

Just then, a familiar figure comes striding around the corner, brows low and thunderous as they zero in on the embrace Fernando has you locked in. Mark Webber falters mid-step as he takes in the rather obvious changes to your body, chin dropping in a comical picture of dumbstruck shock.

Fernando can’t resist angling the two of you forward just enough to emphasize the prominent curve of your belly straining against the flowy fabric of your summer dress. He watches your father’s expression morph from surprise, to confusion, then slowly … realization as the pieces begin to click into place.

Within seconds, Mark’s eyes have narrowed to slits of rage, mouth curling back in a snarl of anger as he picks up his pace and stalks towards the pair of you. Fernando’s own smug expression slips, features settling into a hard mask as he angles his body slightly in front of yours on instinct.

“You motherfucking piece of shit-” Your father snarls, face taking on an alarming reddish hue as he rears back and swings at Fernando.

Fernando manages to sidestep the worst of the blow at the last second, feeling only a glancing impact against his left cheekbone before Mark closes in again with balled fists raised. Behind him, you let out a strangled cry of dismay, reaching out helplessly to grasp at the back of his shirt.

“Dad, no! Fernando, please-”

But Fernando is already sinking into a fighting stance, knees slightly bent and weight evenly distributed. He blocks another wild swing from Mark with ease, allowing the Australian’s momentum to carry him past so Fernando can land a swift, open-handed punch against the side of his head.

The sharp retaliatory crack has Mark stumbling sideways, snarling like an enraged animal. For one brief, wildly intense moment, the two former rivals simply square off — sizing one another up like they’ve done a hundred times before on various circuits when they were both still competing.

From anyone else, Fernando might have been able to laugh off this overreaction, shrug it aside as the misguided anger of a hotblooded father learning his young daughter is now expecting. But this is Mark Webber — a man who has proven himself as fiery and formidable an opponent as they come.

Fernando won’t admit it aloud, but a tiny thrill of excitement races through him at the prospect of a proper throwdown with his old nemesis turned friend. He throws you a quick glance over his shoulder, assessing if he needs to move you further away before the situation escalates.

You surprise him by shaking your head adamantly, those beautiful eyes blazing with protective fury of your own as you plant yourself squarely in between the two men.

“Fernando, don’t hurt him,” you plead, gaze flickering between him and the bristling Aussie now clambering back to his feet. “He’s just-”

“Being a bloody psychopathic bastard,” Mark spits, wiping a hand across his rapidly swelling lip. His hateful glare lands accusingly on the prominent swell of your middle. “Fucking hell , Nando. She’s just a kid-”

Fernando feels his own temper ratcheting up several notches at the venom and dismissal lacing the other man’s tone. He takes an aggressive step forward, forcing you back behind the shield of his powerful frame.

“Don’t talk about her like she isn’t here to defend herself,” Fernando growls, unconcerned that they’re rapidly drawing an audience from the swarm of crew personnel surrounding them.

He arches a challenging brow at your father’s scathing glower. “What’s wrong? Upset that while you were off galivanting around the globe, I was putting a baby in your daughter’s belly?”

Mark lets out an outraged roar, lurching forward to throw another wild haymaker that Fernando easily ducks under. You cry out in distress, hands coming up to grip at Fernando’s biceps from behind as you try to bodily pull him away from the furious Australian’s reach.

“Both of you, stop!” Your shrill voice cuts through the tense alleyway, causing both men to pause for a split-second and glance towards you. “Nando, don’t provoke him! And you-” You aim an accusatory finger at your seething father. “Lay one more hand on Fernando and I swear to god-”

Whatever heated threat you were preparing goes unvoiced as a sudden aura of pain visibly ripples across your features, brow furrowing and lips parting on a pained gasp. Your hands instinctively fly down to cradle your belly, entire body locking up with tension.

Fernando’s heart leaps into his throat as he recognizes the clear signs of distress from months spent doting upon your every subtle twinge and discomfort. Immediately, his previous temper fades into a dull, distant roar easily overshadowed by the all-consuming need to ensure your well-being.

“Pequeña?” He’s at your side in an instant, gripping your upper arms to steady you as a light sheen of perspiration blooms on your brow. “Breathe through it, mi amor … just breathe, okay?”

“I-I’m fine,” you manage in a tight voice. “Just a twinge. The excitement is probably too mu-ahh!”

You gasp again, nails digging punishingly into Fernando’s forearms as your knees threaten to buckle. All hints of masculine posturing flee his mind as Fernando smoothly sweeps you up into a secure bridal carry, heedless of the soft whimpers of discomfort now trickling past your parted lips.

He locks eyes with a stunned Mark over your bent crown, gaze impassive and steady. “You heard her. The excitement is too much. We’re leaving.”

Without waiting for a response, Fernando swivels on his heel and marches back the way you’d originally come with you cradled protectively against his chest. He keeps his strides measured and unhurried, but still manages to put a fair amount of distance between the pair of you and your father’s petulant anger in a matter of moments.

Once you’ve rounded a quiet corner alcove, Fernando gently lowers you to a relatively secluded stack of equipment crates, bracing your lower back and guiding you into a seated position.

“Wait here,” he murmurs against your hairline, dropping a fleeting kiss to the rapidly dampening strands stuck to your brow. Fernando’s fingers ghost down to cradle your belly once more, silently assessing for any areas of increased tension. “I’ll be back in just a moment with some water and a physio, alright?”

You nod weakly, squirming to rest back against the cool metal behind you as another pained grimace flits across your features. Fernando feels his heart clench at the wretched, lost expression clouding your eyes.

Cupping your cheek, he tilts your chin up until you meet his heated gaze. “Don’t look so afraid, pequeña. Everything will be fine, you’ll see.”

Fernando leans in until his nose brushes against yours, allowing the familiar closeness and the scent of his cedar and bergamot cologne to soothe you. “Our little one is just reminding us who’s boss, that’s all. But Papi’s here … I’ll take care of both of you, sí?”

You manage a weak smile at that, some of the tension bleeding from your delicate features as you nod against his palm. Fernando presses one more lingering kiss to your brow before reluctantly pulling away.

“I’ll be right back, mi vida. Just breathe deeply for me in the meantime.”

With one final reassuring caress to your belly, Fernando turns on his heel and strides back out into the bustling paddock area. His jaw is set in a tense line, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides as he mentally catalogs which team staff he needs to track down.

Rounding a corner, Fernando very nearly barrels straight into the rigid form of your father standing there with arms crossed, clearly waiting to waylay him. The Aussie’s expression is thunderous, eyes blazing with hurt and undisguised fury.

“So that’s it then?” Mark bites out in a tone of barely restrained aggression. “You’ve gone and knocked up my little girl. My own daughter, Nando ...”

Fernando holds up a dismissive hand, in no mood to allow your father’s misplaced anger to provoke another confrontation — not when you’re so clearly in distress. “Don’t start with me again.” His tone is low, brooking no argument. “Your daughter is safe and being well looked after, that’s all that matters right now.”

With that, he moves to sidestep around Mark, only to find his path blocked by the other man’s broad chest as he steps directly into Fernando’s space. The former World Champion narrows his eyes warningly, feeling his temper ratcheting back up in the face of such insolence.

“Look, you arrogant Spanish prick,” Mark growls, lips peeling back in a menacing sneer. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing here, but-”

Fernando abruptly cuts him off with a harsh bark of humorless laughter, dark eyes glittering dangerously. “A game?” He shakes his head slowly, expression one of vaguely disbelieving contempt. “You really think that’s all this is to me? Getting one up on you by deflowering your little girl and leaving her pregnant, alone, and disgraced?”

The other man flinches almost imperceptibly at the crass words, clearly thrown by Fernando’s frank disdain. The Spaniard presses on relentlessly. “Any man who would treat a situation like this so flippantly doesn’t deserve to consider themselves a real man at all — let alone a father.”

Mark’s face has turned an alarming shade of puce, whether from shame or sheer unchecked rage Fernando neither knows nor cares. He simply crowds further into the Australian’s space, heedless of how their chests nearly brush with each harsh exhalation.

“Make no mistake, I love that woman and the child she carries more than life itself,” Fernando states with conviction, cadence low and gravelly. “If you’re asking whether I intend to be there for them both as a partner, as a father … my answer is simple.”

He pauses just long enough to allow the weight of his next words to truly sink in.

“For as long as your daughter and my children will have me, you couldn’t pry me away from their sides with a fucking crowbar.”

Fernando holds your father’s seething gaze for one final beat, satisfaction lancing through him at seeing the other man seemingly robbed of his righteous anger. With a curt nod, he finally moves to brush past the speechless Australian without another word —intent on fetching the physio like he had originally set out to do.

Because in the end, Mark Webber’s approval means less than nothing to Fernando. All that matters is rushing back to your side and ensuring your safety and comfort. You and the new life blossoming within you are his entire world now.

As if to reaffirm the point, you suddenly appear around the corner, one hand braced protectively under the swell of your abdomen.

“Nando,” you breathe in a tremulous voice, blindly reaching for him. “The little one misses you ...”

Fernando instantly abandons all thoughts of confronting Mark, or retrieving a physio, or anything else as he rushes to gather you up in his arms once more. He cradles you tenderly to his chest as your fingers twist almost convulsively in the fabric of his Hugo Boss shirt, dark eyes wide and pleading.

Fernando glances down at you cradled protectively in his arms, heart clenching at the distressed furrow of your brow and shallow, panting breaths.

Readjusting his grip, he dips his head to murmur a string of soothing Spanish endearments against your sweat-dampened hairline as he carries you through the winding labyrinth of the paddock. His strides are measured but purposeful, not rushing — he needs to get you somewhere quiet and comfortable to recover from the ordeal.

Finally, Fernando spots a secluded alcove tucked away behind a cluster of tires. He quickly guides you over and gently lowers you onto an emptied workbench, cocooning you against his broad chest.

“There, there, pequeña,” he croons, lips brushing your brow. “Just breathe nice and deep for Papi, just like we practiced ...”

You nod weakly, fingers reflexively flexing against the solid planes of Fernando’s abdomen as you struggle to pull in deep gulps of air. He deftly tugs the neckline of your summer dress aside to expose more of your flushed skin, using the hem to dab away the perspiration beading on your chest and throat.

“That’s it, mi vida,” he praises in that dark, soothing timbre. “Just like that, easy does it ...”

Slowly, the tension bleeds from your features as the worst of the discomfort subsides. Fernando doesn’t dare loosen his supportive embrace, nor does he tear his increasingly heated gaze away from your parted lips as each measured exhale puffs across his skin.

“Better now?” He murmurs, thumb tracing the delicate arch of your cheekbone reverently. A rosy blush stains your complexion when you nod meekly, lashes fanning across those glorious cheekbones.

“Good girl,” Fernando rumbles, helpless not to drink in the gorgeous picture you make — cheeks flushed, lips swollen, eyes glazed with lingering stardust. He grips your jaw in a firm caress, tilting your chin up until your gazes lock.

“Because I must admit,” he husks softly, gaze darkening to molten whiskey. “Seeing you like this, with my child safe inside you … has me feeling quite possessive, pequeña.”

You shudder visibly at his words, tongue darting out to wet those plump lips in a blatant show of want. Fernando doesn’t miss the subtle gesture, allowing his gaze to dip briefly to track the slick path your tongue carves before fixing back on your rapidly dilating pupils.

“Would you like that, hmm?” He lowers his voice to a sensual rumble, skimming his thumb across your lower lip in a wordless command for access. “Having Papi show you just how adored, how cherished you and our little one inside you truly are?”

A whimper catches in the back of your throat as you readily accept the gentle press of Fernando’s calloused digit between your parted lips. Your eyes flutter shut on a trembling exhale as he slowly begins to glide the thick pad of his thumb across that heavenly softness, careful not to scrape the sensitive skin with his nail.

“That’s it, pequeña,” he growls, a tad hoarse as desire visibly burns behind those long lashes. “Suckle for me, let me take care of you both nice and proper ...”

Fernando rocks forward ever so slightly, allowing the swollen curve of your belly to brush against his solid abs with each tiny shuddering breath you drag in through your nose. He keeps up the lazy, hypnotic strokes of his thumb until you’re completely transfixed — hips shifting restlessly against his thighs and soft, muffled mewls escaping past the seal of your swollen lips.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs, voice pitched low enough to rasp straight through you and ignite every raw nerve ending. “So sweet and responsive for Papi … going to reward that gorgeous little mouth in just a moment, I promise.”

You whine wantonly around his thumb in response, eyes fluttering back open to reveal pupils blown wide with naked yearning. Fernando chuckles indulgently, thumb tracing the delicate bow of your lower lip one final time before retreating fully.

“So eager,” he tuts without any real admonishment. Leaning in close, he angles his head to brush kiss-swollen lips against the outer shell of your ear. “Don’t fret, pequeña. I’ll take such good care of both of you right here, right now ...”

Fernando drops a lingering series of kisses along the line of your jaw, letting his lush mouth trail lower and lower with each heated murmur.

“Will remind you exactly who you belong to … who made you … who put this child in your belly ...”

His final words are an exhale ghosting out across your thundering pulse. Fernando immediately latches on with his teeth, nipping and sucking a series of stinging, possessive marks into your sensitized flesh that has you arching against him with a strangled cry of pure bliss.

Out here, cloaked in the shadow of the paddock where anyone could stumble across the two of you — your father included — and discover just how thoroughly Fernando has claimed you. The taboo thrill of it all is utterly intoxicating.

As your trembling fingers find purchase in his clothes, dragging him nearer with insistence, Fernando feels that familiar molten lick of possessive pride unfurl deep in his core. You are his now, fully and completely — mind, body, and soon … family.

Just the way it was always meant to be.

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